


The Butcher and the Maiden

by BrideofCrixus



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrideofCrixus/pseuds/BrideofCrixus
Summary: Summaries are hard, has a definite foundation in the series for names, faces and identities but then goes in a different direction. An abducted Vought scientist, secret formula. Starts slow, but smut and major character deaths ahead. Becca isn’t a part of this Butcher’s world. Lots of triggers and consensual non-consensual activities afoot. I hope you enjoy, xoxo
Relationships: Billy Butcher and OC, Homelander and Stormfront, Starlight/Annie and Hughie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Outpatient Surgery 

“Were you this much of a sniveling cunt before the Compound V or is this the effect?” Butcher growled before he depressed the trigger on the detonator and watched the Supe’s midsection explode from the C4 belt that Frenchie had wired together from phone charger cords. 

“Goddammit Butcher, we needed to try and get some answers first. That’s the fifth Supe you’ve blown up, you know how hard they are to get a hold of,” Mother’s Milk growled as he shook his head.

Butcher chuckled as he wiped grey matter from his forehead. “He wasn’t going to give us anything, these fucking Supe’s are all the same.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even ask him anything?”

“No, but I got this,” Butcher said and tossed a laminated ID badge at MM’s broad chest. 

MM examined the badge, seeing it was an access pass for one of Vought’s off-site research facilities. 

“So, what, we’re going to go walk right in the front doors?”

“Something like that,” Butcher said with a smirk.

Both men looked to Starlight when she spoke from the doorway.

She couldn’t conceal her disgust at the blown apart and remaining visceral stump of the Supe and averted her gaze up to Hughie as he came to stand beside her. 

“I could go there, if I got stopped, I could say I was returning the badge, that I found it.”

Hughie immediately began to protest and both Starlight and Butcher simultaneously interrupted him.

“Let me do this,” Starlight murmured.

“She’s a Supe, she’ll be fine,” Butcher grumbled and pushed past all of them.

Hughie followed him to the shabby bathroom as he wiped a damp cloth over the most obvious of the blood stains he could see and paused when Hughie didn’t move from the doorway.

“Stop getting distracted, your bird wants to help.”

Hughie blew out a breath and stepped aside so Butcher could find Frenchie and the Female and bring everyone together to discuss a way of getting into the Vought facility with the access badge.

Frenchie pulled up some info after hacking a Vought firewall and according to a glossary of Vought’s offsite facilities, this particular badge granted access to a building that was classified as Medical Research and Development.

Frenchie continued to check the schedules of the various companies that hauled away documents to be archived or shredded and trash abatement. 

MM noted a few things that would be needed with a stubby pencil on a yellow pad of paper. 

Everyone gathered around the dimly lit table in the rundown safehouse. As MM outlined a rough outline of the Vought facility, putting x’s on the entrances and rear access doors as well as the safety required fire escapes, Dr. Olivia Phillips pulled her luxury sedan into her reserved parking space behind the Vought Medical R&D building. She flipped down her visor and checked her teeth to make sure her breakfast bagel from the drive-thru espresso hut hadn’t left a poppyseed lodged in between her front teeth. 

Olivia dabbed on a fresh coat of peach gloss before pulling her purse and backpack from the passenger seat. She juggled her coffee as she clicked her key fob and the car beeped twice. 

She adjusted the thin strap of the hot pink backpack over her shoulder as her high heels clicked on the pavement of the freshly paved lot. 

Olivia gritted her teeth as she slid her access badge and heard her co-worker Craig’s voice sound from behind her. 

“Morning Florida,” he drawled.

She fought to keep tension from making her shoulders rise and plastered a saccharin sweet smile on her face before glancing back at him as the door buzzed loudly as it unlocked. 

“Good morning Dr. Dalton,” she said and fought to not walk stiffly to the employee lounge and locker room as he called to her back. “Oh, come on, call me Craig.”

Olivia stuffed her bags in her locker and slipped on her lab coat before draining the last of her now tepid coffee and taking the stairs down to the sprawling lab in the basement. 

She was buzzed in by security and washed her hands thoroughly before grabbing her daily inventory sheets and reviewing the notes left by the night shift.

Olivia pulled a few cultured specimens from one of the deep-freezes according to an urgent work order from a Vought scientist on the third floor. She tagged the specimen and checked the task off her task list.

Doctor Olivia Phillips had no idea that in just a few hours, her life was going to be completely turned upside down, shaken apart and turned inside out. 

Olivia was listening to a voicemail and didn’t hear Craig until he tapped her on the shoulder.

She nearly dropped the phone as he held his hands up and pretended that he hadn’t purposefully made his approach as stealthy as possible. 

“How’s it going Florida, what do you have planned for your Friday night?” he asked openly leering at her chest.

“I’ve asked you to not call me that,” Olivia said stiffly and deleted the voicemail.

“Sorry, sorry,” Craig said and leaned on the stainless-steel counter and pulled one of the ink pens from its mesh holder. 

Olivia hated her pens getting stolen, so she decorated them with garish artificial hibiscus blossoms and gaudy feathers.

“Come get drinks with me tonight,” he said easily and deftly twirled the blooming pen in his long fingers.

Olivia reminded herself to keep smiling, “no thanks. I’m driving to my parent’s house this weekend, it’s their anniversary.”

“Bring me as your plus one,” he quickly countered.

She shook her head as her smile started to fail around the edges. “It’s just a small family get together; my mom hasn’t been feeling well.”

“You always have an excuse,” Craig said snarkily and shoved the pen back in the crowded holder.

As Olivia took in a deep inhale as the head of Vought’s R&D pouted, across town, MM, Butcher, Hughie and Starlight loaded into the dark nondescript van as Frenchie kick-started the foreign made motorcycle and the Female climbed onto the seat behind him, molding herself against him. 

They started towards the Vought facility, obeying all traffic laws, and not drawing any unnecessary attention to themselves.

After checking to make sure it was Friday, they decided to approach through the delivery entrance.

There were several surveillance camera blind spots, but that facility wasn’t considered high-risk for break-ins. 

As the van and motorcycle closed the distance between themselves and the facility, in the basement lab, Olivia blew out a relieved breath when Doctor Craig Dalton was paged on the overhead system and he had to leave. 

She tapped her fingers on the stainless-steel counter as she listened to the next voicemail message and looked up at her educational accolades in matte grey frames with a simple ivory mat. 

“Dad says this job is just a stepping stone,” she mumbled aloud, reminding herself that as soon as she logged enough hours she could get a better job in the main Vought laboratory downtown. She needed two-thousand hours with Dr. Craig Dalton before she could apply. 

As she logged some chemical panel results from a high-pitched lab assistant in the downtown lab, MM and Butcher breached the service entrance and went to the right in search of the freight elevator that led to the basement as Hughie, Starlight, Frenchie and the Female took the second freight elevator to the first floor in search of the security office. 

Olivia cranked the satellite radio station when one of best classic rock songs ever began to play. 

As she sang along to the song in a blissfully unaware off-key tone, out in the hall, a security guard who was taking a smoke break returned early and turned the corner, nearly colliding with MM’s formidable frame. 

The fresh-faced guard pulled his firearm as Butcher raised his own gun. 

Several gunshots were rapidly exchanged and called the attention of two more nearby guards who began sprinting towards the sound of gunfire.

MM’s hand shot out and pulled the guard into a chokehold and easily snapped his neck, letting his body drop heavily to the gleaming linoleum. 

Butcher and MM dashed into an alcove and exchanged gunfire with the two guards. MM threw a flash grenade down the hall and the inexperienced guards were too slow to react and shot wildly as the explosion disoriented them. 

MM and Butcher’s sites each found a guard and ended them efficiently with a shot to the head and heart. 

Butcher staggered and dropped to one knee as his side felt like it was coming apart. MM saw the blood soaking through his ribbed, grey shirt and half-pulled Butcher to the closest open door. 

Olivia nearly fell off her padded stool when MM practically kicked in the door, dragging a bleeding Butcher behind him. 

She fumbled for the phone as MM slammed the door shut and engaged the deadbolt. 

“Put down the phone,” MM ordered calmly as he aimed his titanium gun at her.

Olivia nodded and replaced the phone and swallowed hard in relief when MM put the gun into his waistband. “You’re a doctor?”

Olivia nodded, not trusting herself to be capable of speech. 

“Do you have the supplies here to help him?”

“It’s not really that kind of lab but there are some emergency supplies in the cabinet.”

“Get them,” MM shouted and Olivia scrambled to the cabinet and yanked out a plastic-handled case and nylon duffle bag of emergency supplies. She dropped next to  
Butcher as she yanked on a pair of snug-fitting green chemotherapy grade gloves. 

MM watched Olivia as she yanked Butcher’s blood-soaked shirt out of the way and pressed a large, square gauze to the bullet’s entrance wound. MM dialed Frenchie and told them to pull the van around the back and that Butcher had been injured. 

Olivia dug around in Butcher’s side and eventually her gloved fingertips brushed against the bullet lodged in his belly. 

“You need to keep pressure on this,” Olivia said to Butcher as she needed both hands to get to the suture kit. The blood threatened to seep around her fingertips as she pressed a fresh white gauze to the wound. 

Butcher looked at her and arched an eyebrow, his pupils seemed to truss her up and see inside her before he blinked and added with a ragged chuckle.

“I don’t have time for that love,” he grunted as he leveled his gun at the door as it was broken down and a pair of bulky guards rushed inside.

Olivia blew out a sharp breath and shifted until she could lean her hip against the bandage and hold pressure long enough to dig out a sterile needle and length of sterile suture. 

Butcher tried to focus on the door and not the woman who within minutes of seeing him, had a gun pointed at her and was then saving his life. He let his eyes move over every bit of her exposed skin as she put several internal stitches to stop the bleeding and then stitched him close. 

She felt herself flush at her uneven stitching. “It’s been a long time since you were in clinical, you stopped the bleeding and that’s what matters,” she told herself. 

Olivia looked up startled as a skinny pale guy with huge, unblinking eyes and a cute blonde dropped into the room from an off-white ceiling panel.

“What the fuck is going on?” Olivia murmured to herself, but Butcher heard her. He kept his expression neutral and tried to conceal the pain that was radiating from under her busy, gloved hands. 

Olivia taped the edges of a thick absorbent dressing as the skinny guy and blonde each got on a side of her impromptu surgical patient and hauled him to his feet. 

She found herself walking with them as they scrambled out the rear of the building, pressing a sterile swab to the wound’s seeping edges. 

Olivia shadowed Butcher’s half-carried steps until he helped half-slide himself into the back of a van and then started to back up with the intention of returning to the safety of the building. 

“I’m going to need you to get in the van doctor, please don’t make me repeat myself,” MM ordered easily.

Olivia felt her bladder tighten at the emptiness in his words and nodded as she kept her eyes on MM’s broad frame as she climbed into the back of the van.

The skinny guy climbed behind the wheel as the blonde got into the passenger seat. The muscular man pulled the van’s doors closed and Olivia turned her attention back to the man she was pulling a bullet out of just minutes after seeing him for the first time. 

Hughie pressed the accelerator and the van lurched as it gained speed. Olivia pressed two smooth fingertips against Butcher’s neck and found his rapidly pounding pulse. 

“Don’t worry love, I’m still alive,” Butcher murmured as he sagged against the bare metal floor of the van.

“This will sting,” Olivia murmured as she started a saline IV on Butcher and only had large bore needles available that would part his flesh more than necessary. 

She taped the plastic IV catheter in place and injected a broad-spectrum antibiotic, not trusting how sterile her technique was considering the field circumstances. 

Butcher grunted and then fell silent as Olivia cleaned the coagulated blood off his side to make sure he had stopped bleeding. 

Olivia glanced up at him, finding his eyes closed. “Are you with me?” she asked as she tore off a fresh strip of paper tape and affixed it to his side.

“Yes doctor, but I could use some mouth-to-mouth when you’re done there,” he murmured in a heavy, masculine tone despite the blood loss and ensuing state of shock. 

Olivia shook her head and attended to the smaller wounds and lacerations Butcher had sustained as Hughie continued driving the van for another hour before pulling into a low-rent mechanic shop that would serve as the new safer safe house. 

MM and Hughie flanked Butcher and moved him to an industrial green cot as Starlight held out her hand towards a visibly shaken and fish belly white Olivia.

“Hi, I’m Annie, I promise you’re going to be okay. Just bear with us a while as we get things straightened out.”

Olivia stared at Annie’s extended hand before tucking her hair behind her ears and clearing her throat.

“Hello, Olivia, Olivia Phillips,” she said and closed her hand around Annie’s as she stood from the rear of the van. 

Annie trailed her eyes over Olivia’s blood splattered form. “Let me show you where you can clean up, I have some stuff you can change in to also.”

Olivia felt a touch of relief as she followed Annie to the rear of the auto shop and a shabby bathroom with glorious soap and hot water.

Annie set a stack of clean clothes on the counter and hovered outside the door as Olivia took a long time cleaning up. She washed her hair three times and scrubbed  
her fingernails until the cuticles threatened to bleed. She turned off the water when it began to cool off and dried with the rough towels before slipping into knit pants and a long-sleeved thermal top and blue-grey hoodie with a local burger chain’s brightly colored logo.

As Olivia got dressed, on the other side of the shop in a room that used to be the manager’s office, MM adjusted the lumpy pillow behind Butcher’s head.

MM paused and looked over when Olivia appeared in the doorway and moved to the other side of the cot. She peeked under the edge of the gauze dressing and nodded in satisfaction that the swelling had not increased nor a return of blood loss. 

“Why don’t you go clean up,” Olivia said to MM, gesturing to his blood-stained hands and shirt. 

“I’ll stay right here, I swear,” Olivia said dramatically and managed to keep from rolling her eyes.

MM finally nodded and went to clean up in the same cramped bathroom. 

Olivia tucked the rough wool blanket around Butcher’s side and felt how saturated his shirt was with blood, sweat and topical antiseptic gel. 

She tisked to herself and rooted around in the nylon bag she had carried with her from Vought, the company’s name in bold embroidery on the bag.

Olivia found a couple bottles of sterile water and spied a half-empty cardboard box of clean shop rags in the corner of the room. 

She was tearing the cellophane seal on the first bottle of water when Butcher’s pained groan broke into her thoughts. 

“Am I going to live?”

“I think so, just don’t aggravate the stiches by moving around too much,” she cautioned before she laid the back of her palm against his forehead as she counted his respirations.

Olivia flinched as he shot out his hand and captured her wrist, keeping her hand pressed to his forehead. 

“You should get more rest,” she murmured as she tried to tug her hand free.

Butcher nodded in agreement and gave her wrist a final squeeze before releasing her.

The instant knot dissolved in Olivia’s gut when he let go of her and she adjusted the linen up and around his shoulders. 

MM reappeared at the very moment her phone chimed from deep inside her lab coat’s pocket. He crossed the room in three long strides and yanked at her jacket,  
ripping the pocket until he could close his large hand around her phone. 

He frowned as his eyes moved over the text message.

“Are you okay Florida? Call me ASAP,” MM read aloud from the rectangular screen.

“Is that some fucking Vought code?”

Olivia shook her head and stared at her phone solidly in his grip. “It’s a stupid nickname, that’s my direct supervisor.”

Butcher hovered between a conscious and unconscious state, but he heard the stupid nickname and tucked it away for later reference. 

Annie rapped on the door jamb and broke the growing heaviness in the small room. “You should get some rest too, we’ll take turns keeping an eye on him,” she said authoritatively nodding towards the passed-out Butcher. 

Olivia nodded and followed Annie to another room that had a couple chairs and broken-down sofa kept company by a buzzing, blinking vending machine. 

She ate a bag of stale sour cream and onion potato chips and can of flat soda before curling up on the sofa with a similarly scratchy wool blanket that Annie had left for her. 

Olivia settled on to her back and shifted uncomfortably as she stared up at the water-stained ceiling. 

Her frenzied, stressed mind and physical shock response had her thinking of the most unimportant things. 

“I forgot to mail the mortgage,” she whispered to the empty room as she thought about the rectangular envelope on her hallway oak entry table. “Will I ever get to wear that new DVF to Caroline’s wedding?” she murmured before sleep finally conquered her taxed system.

Hours passed as she slept, her future still murky and composed of the unknown.


	2. Wildly Fluctuating Bodily Temperatures

As Butcher slept in his shocked, blood-loss state, his mind capitalized on sorting through his memories and playing double features behind his closed eyes as his body began the slow process of healing itself. 

Butcher slept in the room alone, his fingers twitching, no one hearing his small sounds and seeing the tiny shakes of his unconscious head.

Within his healing body, a rush of engorged white blood cells swirled through him, desperately trying to fight the broad-spectrum antibiotic she had slipped into his vascular system earlier. 

His mind played a slow-motion memory in painful repetition. 

Young Billy Butcher was back in the family kitchen as a child, bored and angry that he couldn’t play outside because of the weather. Young Billy was kicking his mother’s antique hutch as she had her back to him rolling out pie dough. 

“Billy please, go play with your brother in the other room.”

Young Billy answered only in a petulant grunt and kicked the hutch harder. 

The following moments were all the result of an insolent child acting out but created a divide between young Billy and his mother. 

His mother had turned her eyes away from the flattened dough when she heard young Billy’s shoe make contact with the hutch.

Her hands flew to her mouth and she stifled a shout as a glass hummingbird that had belonged to her great-grandmother was toppled from the top shelf and fell to the floor and shattered into hundreds of beautiful, sharp shards. 

Young Billy had seen his mother’s eyes fill with tears at the weight of the instant loss of nostalgia, tangible value, and connection to those who now resided in the land of the dead. 

As a child he couldn’t apologize, he could only watch his mother sink to her knees and gather every last glass bit of the shattered fragility while he stood a wordless spectator. 

Hours later his eyes opened as many of the other residents of the former auto shop turned safe house also rose to face a day with the million ways it could go with an abducted Vought scientist. 

On the other side of the abandoned auto shop, Olivia rose from the uncomfortable surface of the cushioned bench and stretched her arms high overhead, hearing her joints creak in protest. She was moving her neck in slow circles when Annie appeared in the doorway with a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the hot French roast, even though it was scorched it was still warm as it spread through her upper body and full of much-needed caffeine. She wrinkled her nose at the lingering bitterness as she smoothed her hair back and half-braided it into place.

“I should check on the patient,” Olivia said as she cleared the corners of her eyes from grit that accumulated with her on and off stretch of sleep.

Annie nodded, “yes, I’ll come with you.”

Olivia paused, noting to herself that Annie wasn’t asking but stating. Olivia was so new to Vought and still wasn’t through her manual of Vought Supes from the past, present and in-development. She recognized Annie from her recent song that was on every radio station. Even being able to infiltrate its way into a classic rock station, nestled between the Fab Four and the guitarist who looks like he’s five million years old and smokes five packs a day.

Olivia slipped on some generic tennis shoes and followed Annie to the office that had been turned into a pseudo-hospital room. 

Annie sat in a wobbly chair and wordlessly allowed Olivia free reign under her powerful gaze.

Olivia washed her hands well and approached Butcher as he dozed. He stirred awake when her bare fingers pressed against the inside of his wrist and counted his pulse. 

Butcher opened his eyes the smallest amount and stared at her through his lash-framed view. 

He watched Olivia look at her obscenely expensive watch as she counted his pulse. He let his eyes trace every curve and angle of her features. He watched her pink tongue dart out and moisten her lips before she pressed them together and slid on a pair of generic latex gloves. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked suddenly, catching Butcher somewhat off-guard.

“Sore,” he said bluntly and gave a low groan as she moved his stiff shirt, saturated with dark blood, out of the way. 

Olivia muttered to herself as she pulled off the dressing and leaned her face close to assess the edges of his wound and her not very straight stitching. Butcher tried to remind himself that she was a Supe saver, a fucking Supe creator. “She’s probably a Supe fucker,” he thought to himself and then lost all ability to think as he felt her hot exhale against the bare skin of his side as she sniffed the air around his wound for the smell of bacterial replication or potential for viral amplification. She closed her eyes, searching the air for the scent of the beginning of infection and need for emergency medical care. 

“Do you feel comfortable enough for me to get you into some cleaner clothes and get all the blood off of you?”

Butcher completely opened his eyes, thinking of her sucking a Supe’s cock as he nodded, keeping his expression neutral. He was aware of Annie and her quiet potential as she sat politely in the corner, her legs crossed at the ankles. 

Butcher watched her hands as she pushed the stained clothing from him and covered his bare upper half with another scratchy basket as she soaked some of the shop towels with some generic soap and began cleaning off Butcher’s blood-stained midsection. 

They were both silent and he remained completely still as she had to scrub fairly assertively on some blood that had dried like plaster to his naked skin.

Butcher watched her replace the blanket over his upper half after she dried him off and turned her attention to his blood covered hands and forearms. 

“Why the Supe fetish?” Butcher wanted to ask as he watched Olivia scrub the coagulated blood from under his blunt, uneven fingernails. 

He brought his eyes to her face when she spoke without looking up at him. “Do you have any nausea, gut issues, headaches, vision issues?”

“Nothing like that, I’ve felt fucking worse,” he boasted.

Olivia snorted, “good for you.”

Annie kept her eyes on Butcher, concerned even in his diminished physical state that he would start hurling the hateful thoughts she could practically see dancing on the tip of his tongue. 

Butcher watched Olivia pay the same attention to each of his nails from his ragged cuticles to the rough pads of his thumbs. 

He lapsed into silence and trained his gaze on her instead of speaking .

Olivia could feel the weight of his eyes and wanted to shift nervously under his penetrating gaze. She kept reminding herself that Annie was something that would keep her safe and chastised herself again for neglecting to review that fucking five-hundred-page manual.

Olivia finished changes the bandages on Butcher’s side and followed Annie out as MM and Frenchie passed through the doorway after them.

Olivia could feel the weight of Butcher’s eyes boring deep holes into her back long after she had departed the small room. 

Several days passed as Butcher healed at a remarkable pace. 

Olivia was very pleased with how well the incision was knitting, it would still leave a scar, a crooked scar because the last stitches she had performed were on a cadaver. 

Butcher’s anger for what he had now imagined at her hosting annual Supe gang bangs was in direct contradiction with the growing feelings of what started out as genuine gratitude for the retention of his life and rapidly became more.

Butcher found himself to be just as angry that his eyes found and memorized any bit of bare flesh he could find, he longed to trace the line of her jaw and run his thumb over her lower lip.

After a total of eight days in the auto shop and plenty of rest, Butcher was up and moving around mostly with ease. 

Butcher took great advantage of the mobility he had in between their regrouping to spy on Olivia. 

He found his favorite was watching her brush her hair. Butcher committed the sound of the leaking shop shower to memory and made sure he was positioned just right as she sat on two broken down benches she had worked into a cozy-ish nest. 

Butcher held his breath and closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath as the same tingling sensation washed over him when he opened his eyes and drank in the sight of her running a plastic brush from the crown of her head to the tips of her dark brown, nearly black when it was damp, fall of hair.

Butcher felt himself nearly salivate as she shook the damp strands apart and smoothed a hand to fumble with the zipper of his pants. He looked around before he pulled his rapidly hardening cock free. He quietly spit into his palm before he squeezed and stroked the length of his thick hardness. 

Butcher focused on keeping his breath steady and soft as she continued the long strokes of the plastic brush through the silken strands. He increased the speed of his stroking, feeling a hot coil tighten and pull his balls up close to his body as his climax was all but assured. 

Butcher longed to run his hands through her hair, trace the strands from the crown of her head, down their entire length to the middle of her bottom. 

He came in several hot spurts into a paper napkin he had randomly shoved in his pocket from one of the many fast-food places that had been the only source of food lately. 

Butcher let his breathing return to normal before he shoved his cock back and zipped his pants closed. He walked slowly to the room that serving as a sort of office and room to plan the deaths of fucking Supes and anything that would harm Vought. 

Frenchie, MM, the Female and Hughie were all gathered around a small tablet that was showing footage of what was being called domestic terrorism in the daring daylight raid of the Vought facility. 

Butcher was paying attention when the news anchor began speaking with other doctors that were onsite during the abduction of one of the Vought Scientists.

Everyone fell quiet as a picture of a smiling Doctor Olivia Phillips appeared on the screen. The news anchor went on to say that she was a brand-new graduate and very new to Vought.

The anchor directed his microphone to a handsome doctor identified as Craig Dalton.

“She’s a valuable asset here, we’re all very much concerned about her safety and are asking whoever has her to please realize that she is new here, might not be the kind of scientist you were hoping to poach.”

He ended with a, “please don’t hurt her.”

The news anchor returned to being framed within the screen as he began to repeat earlier top news. 

Butcher sat heavily in a free chair. “Where’s the cunt Supe saver?” he growled as he reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey and set it down with a quarter left. 

“She’s hanging out with Annie,” Hughie said softly when no one else volunteered an answer.

“Hanging out? Are they braiding each other’s fucking hair?” Butcher barked.

Hughie ducked his shoulders, “I think they were just going to talk.”

Butcher scoffed and grabbed the bottle and walked slowly from the room. “Hey, aren’t we going to start discussing our next step, especially with that Vought doctor?”

“You mean that Supe slag?” Butcher grumbled as he returned to the table and took a few burning swallows of the amber alcohol before slamming the bottle on the table. 

Butcher watched MM and Frenchie point out other various Vought facilities and how they may be able to parley their abducted scientist for their benefit.

Butcher’s eyes fell on his clean nails and hands that she had spent a long time paying close attention. 

No one could come to anything agreeable and irritations and tempers flared before MM suggested a lengthy timeout and coming back to the table with ideas. 

Everyone agreed and went their separate ways.

Hughie flanked Butcher as they walked towards where Annie and Olivia were hanging out.

Annie jumped to her feet and immediately, visibly relaxed when Hughie closely followed Butcher’s entrance.

“Where is she?” Butcher barked when he found no one in the room with Annie. 

“She’s cleaning up a bit,” Annie said as she gestured towards the closed door of the adjoining previously staff only bathroom. 

It wasn’t unnoticed by Butcher how much Annie and Hughie wanted to up in each other’s arms. 

“You two can get out of her, I can babysit for a while.”

Hughie and Annie exchanged a questionable glance as Butcher added. “I won’t hurt that cunt, even though she makes Supes.”

Hughie and Annie reluctantly left, and Butcher waited until the sounds of their footsteps receded before opening the bathroom door that Olivia neglected to lock, trusting that Annie would keep her safe. 

He opened the door to Olivia’s back as she leaned over the sink and rinsed her face. Butcher watched her blindly reach for a washcloth to the right of the sink and press it to her face. 

She nearly shouted when she looked up and found his broad frame reflected behind her. 

Olivia continued to press the cloth to her damp face, unsure of what to say, completely afraid of uttering the wrong words. 

“You’re the supe doctor?” Butcher finally rasped angrily. 

“What?” she said squinting at his reflected strength.

“A supe maker?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re a cunt that makes supes.”

His words felt like a slap as he continued in her shocked silence.

“Or are you some feckless cunt that can’t have her own wee ones and buys little ones from others and pump them full of Compound V?”

Olivia blinked rapidly as he lumbered towards her, moving with dangerous fluidity despite the fresh physical damage. Olivia’s chest tightened in fear and she couldn’t breathe as he roughly spun her towards him and grabbed her upper arms. He started to shake her as he shouted, spit flying from his lips as he imagined Olivia creating labs full of little Homelander’s and soulless Supes and then hopping on whatever Supe cock she could find to fill any or all of her holes. 

“I don’t, what, I…,” she began to stammer until Butcher tightened his hands and pushed her against the pitted bathroom wall, her breath nearly left her lungs with the impact of being slammed against the graffiti-laden drywall. 

“Enough,” came the booming voice of MM as he gave Butcher a strong NHL rivaling hip check and made him stumble away from Olivia.

“She works with Supes and you fucking brought her here?” Butcher barked as he regained his balance.

“She saved your fucking life.”

Butcher went to fire a nasty report and paused as though he had run into a glass wall. “What?”

“How the fuck do you think you’re still alive?”

Butcher returned his gaze to Olivia and tried to clear the anger from his eyes to see her more clearly. He narrowed his eyes as he remembered fragmented moments of her green-gloved fingers digging the bullet out of his side and the cool touch of her hand against his forehead. He pressed a hand to his side as he recalled closing his hand around her fingers around her wrist until a couple of his fingers overlapped. 

He felt a tingling sensation in his brain as all of his fragmented memories collided and he remembered the very moment he met her, every word they exchanged, the sound of her breathing and the feel of her touch. New neural pathways buzzed in his brain as they were created, and he squeezed his eyes shut long enough that Olivia felt a flash of concern override her fear for a moment. 

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly and moved further behind MM’s broad, muscular body.

“Go get yourself something to drink, but stay close,” MM said quietly to Olivia.

Butcher’s eyes tracked Olivia as she slunk out of the room. 

Neither man knew that she didn’t go far and positioned herself where she could hear and see them when they continued talking in the wake of her perceived dismissal.

MM waited a few seconds before shaking his head and holding his hands out to the sides. 

“Lay off her a bit, she’s been nothing but polite and helpful.”

“Lay off? She’s a Supe creating cunt.”

“Look, yes she’s Vought, but she still saved your life and hasn’t done anything suspicious.”

They glared at each other.

“Just chill man,” MM finally said.

“I’ll chill, but the second she’s not helpful, I’m putting a bullet in her brain,” Butcher said and tapped his forehead. 

MM shook his head and left Butcher to his vengeful fantasies. 

Butcher was draining the bottle of whiskey when he heard a scuffling sound close by. He found Olivia fumbling at her discarded lab coat pocket for her phone and nearly fumble it as she tried to tap out a call.

Butcher closed the distance between them with ferocious speed despite the touch of alcohol that was turning clingy. 

He slapped the phone out of her hand before she sprinted away from her, slipping out the rear entrance ramp of one of the abandoned garage bays.

Butcher urged himself to move faster when he heard the metallic jingling of the stolen van keys before the sunlight shone on them clutched tightly in her scared hand. 

“Stop,” he shouted as she scrambled at the driver’s side door handle and yanked open the metal door with an oil-needing squeal. Olivia nearly shouted when she got the engine turned over and pushed the accelerator to kiss the dirty floor mat. The nearly bald tires spun and smoked before the whole van bucked and lurched before she shot out of the parking lot of the safe house. 

Olivia practically hugged the steering wheel as she urged the lumbering van to get its ass in gear, wildly looking around and trying to figure out where she was. 

Her heart might’ve actually stopped for a few seconds when the steel click of a switch blade and then the cool kiss of the metal blade against her throat and Butcher’s growl followed soon after. 

“Stop the van,” he growled against her ear, his exhale hot against her skin.

Olivia froze, her back grew rigid as her hands tightened on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. 

She didn’t lift her foot from the accelerator but also didn’t press it further to the floor.

Before Butcher could assert his threat in a more demonstrative fashion, an incredibly loud pyroclastic explosion shook the entire van and Olivia struggled to keep it on the road, nearly scraping the guardrail. 

Butcher looked out the rear window as the safe house was consumed in a fiery display of majesty from the combined efforts of Homelander and Stormfront. 

“Get us moving,” Butcher wheezed and heard the engine accelerate as it hungrily gulped the leaded fuel and increased the distance between them and the now inferno that they had both just recently occupied. 

The flames licked high into the air, extra flashes of color as different caustic chemicals exploded and spread their fatal debris in the air.   
Butcher eventually crawled into the passenger seat, not saying anything as he clicked his seat belt into place and closed the dangerous blade before tucking it away   
in his boot. 

Olivia had relaxed her grip somewhat on the wheel but felt a swift return of her tension when his words broke the sound of the tires devouring the miles between them and certain death.

“Why did you run?” he finally asked. 

Olivia glanced in the rearview mirror before answering. “I heard you,” she said in a hesitating, broken tone.

“Heard me what?”

Olivia tapped her forehead. “I saw you and in that moment it seemed worth the risk to run if I was going to die anyway.”

Olivia stared straight ahead as Butcher’s eyes absorbed her, the rapid pulse in her throat, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed shallowly and the sweat that had sprouted on her forehead. 

Butcher didn’t get a chance to reply when the van swerved sharply as the rear tire blew out. 

Olivia was able to keep the van mostly on the road and eventually could yank the emergency brake and stop them from moving any further.

Butcher’s hand shot out and snatched the keys from the ignition before getting out of the van and grumbled as he fetched the spare, tire-iron, and jack.

Before he started on the tire he walked back to the passenger door and stared at her for a few heartbeats before he spoke.

“Get out of the van,” he ordered and pointed to a spot next to him.

Olivia slowly slid from the driver’s seat and joined him at the rear of the van as he produced to loosen the lug nuts. 

She looked around the desolate area and forest a good sprint away. 

Olivia bit her lower lip and with a stab of resolve snatched the handle of the jack from the floor and swung it at his head before she took off sprinting into the growing darkness, dry leaves crunching under her feet as she scrambled away from him. 

“Goddammit,” Butcher said between clenched teeth. She had barely grazed the side of his head in her haste to escape and he sprang quickly to his feet, in immediate pursuit. 

“Stop running,” he shouted as her departing feet smashed twigs and foliage as she willed herself to move faster. 

Olivia’s lungs began to burn. She nearly stumbled over a fallen log and cursed as a tree branch sharply whipped her cheek and felt a wave of fear when his voice sounded again, seemingly closer.

“Stop running,” he yelled again and knew he was drawing closer when he heard her piercing shout as a thorny bush scratched her arm. 

He willed himself to move faster when he heard her give a sharp cry of pain followed immediately by a large splash. Butcher found her lying on her side in the bitterly cold water of a naturally occurring creek. 

Butcher held his hands away from him as she cowered and stifled her sobs as she shivered in the frightfully chilly water. 

Olivia flinched and waved her arms weakly at him as he approached. Butcher slowed his pace at her open display of fear. 

“I’m just going to make sure you’re not injured,” he murmured and sank down next to her. She grew still at his close proximity and stayed completely rigid as he moved his hands delicately but thoroughly from her cold toes, both feet now bare, to the crown of her head. Once he was satisfied that she had only sustained minor bumps and bruises, he slid his arms around and under her until he could lift her easily into his arms. 

Butcher felt her start to stiffen and spoke quickly, hoping to diffuse any struggling. “You need to get warm; I’m going to carry you to the van.”

His tone didn’t invite discussion and they were both silent as he carried her, she was resolutely still the entire time and every time he spared her beautiful pale face a glance, she had her eyes squeezed shut. 

She opened her eyes when he had to shift her to open the rear doors. He settled her shivering form onto the bare, metal seat.

Olivia’s body was past the point of trying not to show how cold she was. “You need to warm up now,” Butcher muttered and rushed around to the driver’s side of the car. He cranked the heater to the highest setting and returned to the back where he firmly but carefully pulled her into the circle of his arms. 

Despite the bone deep cold, she managed to stiffen and started to struggle until he asserted his strength and kept her locked in place against him. After she stopped squirming, he began to tug and pull at her wet clothes. “You need to warm up,” he growled and forced a gasp from her throat as he roughly handled her, yanking her wet clothes free, ripping, and tearing the fabric, anxious to feel her bare skin.

Olivia knew there was not much chance of preventing him from doing whatever he wanted, she pushed at him and spit a healthy glob of mucus up at him. 

“She saves Supes,” Butcher thought as his eyes darkened with a potent combination of fiery lust and furious anger as he easily asserted his tremendous strength as he yanked the last of her wet clothes free and briskly rubbed his hands against her cold nearly naked flesh. “She’s a Supe groupie cunt,” he reminded himself as he moved his hands over her bare chilly skin. 

He fought to not yank her panties and plain grey free but knew she was nearly past the point of hearing him as it was.

“You need to warm up,” Butcher mumbled as he groped his hand blindly on the floor and grabbed a faded flannel button-up shirt. 

Olivia tried in vain to cover her near nudity until he growled in protest as he captured her wrists and pushed her hands above her head and pinned them against the seat, exposing almost all of her to his eyes. He transferred the grip of her wrists to one of his strong, large hands and used his free hand to rub slow circles on her   
chilly skin.

“Is anyone going to miss you?” Butcher thought before he spoke. “Are you close with your family?”

Olivia’s belly clenched painfully, “is he going to kill me?” she thought before speaking carefully, her teeth chattering from a combination of fear and her near-frozen state. “Most of them are on the other coast, we’re all not really close,” she admitted. 

He fought a satisfied smile at how easy it would now be to pluck her completely free from her previous life and kill her or fuck her first and then kill her. Olivia shuddered when his free hand smoothed around to resume moving in slow circles against the curve of her lower back, urging warmth to return. 

“Can you please let me sit up?” she whispered. Her breath hitched when he dropped his head to the curve of her neck, his exhale hot with each of his spoken words as he let more of his weight pin her to the dirty van floor before speaking. “Are you through running away?”

Olivia wordlessly nodded and held her breath as he remained just as silent. She grew anxious under his unreadable gaze. “Please,” she stammered, her nerves growing to the point of hysteria.

As Butcher stared down at her, dark, angry thoughts took over his thought process as stared down at her, wondering how many Supes she had begged to fuck her. 

Butcher had no idea he was angry at a version of Olivia that was in diametric opposition to the woman he was crushing with his formidable frame. 

“I will after,” he growled as he slid his free hand down to cup and squeeze her bottom before shifting and sliding his fingers up the inside of her thigh. 

Butcher grunted as he kept his grip around her wrists ironclad and used the weight of his body and brute force to force her thighs apart and insinuated himself closer to her barely covered intimacy. 

“After?” she murmured before the realization of his words meaning washed over her and she instantly renewed her struggling.

“You can’t run off like that again,” Butcher suppressed a groan as he moved his free hand to fumble at his zipper.

“Stop, you don’t have to do this.”

“I do though,” Butcher muttered. “I need you to understand that you can’t run away from me ever again,” he murmured and relaxed his weight against her as he yanked on the metal tab of his zipper until he could pull his hardening cock free. He moved his hand from stroking himself to further rigidity and clamped his hand over her mouth, squashing any further noise. 

“Calm down,” he murmured against her ear, flicking his tongue against the soft lobe before moving his lips to rest over her temple. “This can’t be any worse than taking Supe cock,” he growled angrily and yanked at the cotton cup of her bra, pulling the fabric away from her breast until he could expose her hard, pink nipple.   
His words broke her out of her fugue. 

“What did you say?” 

Butcher paused, her tone not that of a lying liar’s denial. 

“You create and save Supes, I’m sure you fuck just as many.”

Olivia felt a flush of anger fill her face and embarrassment at his accusation. 

“I’ve never laid a finger on a Supe unless I’m drawing blood or running a diagnostic test,” she spit up at him.

“It’d be easy to find out if you’re lying,” he rasped and smoothed his free hand to cup her panty covered intimacy as he added. “If you’re a Supe fucker, I’m sure your cunt will reflect it,” he growled brashly and tugged at the edge of the simple cotton panties. 

“Stop, I’m not what you’re saying, I haven’t even worked there that long,” Olivia started until her anxiety took over and she began babbling and crying simultaneously, tripping over her words as she couldn’t wipe the tears from her flushed face. 

Olivia’s breath grew ragged as she felt his rigid cock press against the inside of her thigh. “You know I could just fuck you right now, prove you’re a lying Supe fucking loose cunt and slit your throat?”

“I know,” she managed and looked anywhere but his face as she added in a defeated tone. “Please don’t, I’m not the person you think I am, I’m not,” she breathed shakily. 

“Who are you?” he rasped and pressed his rigidity against her panty covered pink femininity. 

“I’m just a scientist,” she stammered. “I run lab tests and report on cell structures,” she added on a broken gasp. 

“You were able to keep me alive,” he groaned as he rhythmically pressed his hard cock against her barely covered tight, wet entrance. 

“My father is a medical examiner, I haven’t practiced much clinical practice in a while,” she gasped with how close he was to sliding inside her and entirely possessing her.

Butcher danced his fingertips up the front of her body and yanked her bra free until the rounded flesh of her breasts were completely exposed to him. 

“That’s better,” he growled and closed a hand around her breast and squeezed as his thumb teased her nipple.

Butcher lifted his hand from her bare breast when she completely dissolved into body-wracking sobs and tried to choke out her words, growing more hysterical with each spoken syllable.

“I was just working. I was going to be off at six. I had leftover spring rolls for dinner, The Loudest Singer was on at eight. I was washing the bed linen this Saturday, everything’s changed, it’s all too much.”

She heard her voice break and if she was standing, would’ve fallen to the floor as the adrenaline left her body weak and shaking. 

Olivia gasped for air as Butcher abruptly released her hands and helped her roll onto her side as he tucked the long-sleeved flannel shirt around her. 

Butcher felt helpless all of a sudden, he found himself wondering what it would mean if he believed what she was saying. 

Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as he pulled her back in his arms and crushed her to the front of his body. 

She covered her mouth and tried to stifle her sobs as her abruptly altered reality continued to break her apart.

Billy felt her tension rapidly ebb and flow as he kept her wrapped up in his unbreakable embrace until her tears subsided and her breathing returned to a normal rate. 

He shifted and pulled her onto her back until he could find her eyes. Olivia pushed futilely at his hands as he brushed the hair off her clammy forehead. 

He felt completely helpless and unsure of what to do as she dropped her eyes away from his and sniffed hard, thankful to have her hands free to wipe at her eyes with one of the red flannel sleeves. 

Billy gripped her chin and lifted her face to meet his. He spoke in a gruff whisper as he smoothed the rough pad of his thumb over her lower lip.

“We have a lot to discuss and an even further drive,” he started until he had her complete attention before he continued. “We’ll return to this conservation when we’re further away.”

Olivia nodded, grateful inside when he climbed away from her. She blushed and averted her gaze as he shoved his cock back behind his zipper before he helped her settle back onto the front passenger seat. 

He adjusted the heater vents as she tucked the shirt around herself. 

“Are you warm enough?” he asked and added after she nodded. “I’m going to finish changing the tire.”

Olivia watched him methodically change the tire in the side mirror. “Is this the last day of your life?” she asked the blowing heater vents.


	3. Kind?

As Billy changed the tire, he muttered under his breath as the lug nuts proved difficult. “What’s the best fucking move?” he asked himself as he turned the tire iron counterclockwise. “Should I just kill the cunt, get it over with, easy?” 

His frown deepened as he replaced the last lug nut. “What’s the other cunt move?” he asked himself as he turned the tire iron in a smooth circle. 

As Billy finished up with changing the tire, inside the van curled up on the passenger seat, Olivia’s mind raced as she shivered with the bone deep cold that had crawled inside her. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” she murmured as she adjusted the heater vents and pulled the shirt tighter around her shivering form. 

Billy slid behind the wheel and looked over as she avoided his eyes and tried to suppress her shuddering. He shrugged out of his heavy trench coat and held it towards her. 

Olivia mumbled a sound that sounded like a thank you as she pulled the thick coat around herself. Her senses were water boarded by the woodsy, masculine scent that clung to the woven cotton inside the well-stitched coat. She was suffocated by a deeper smell that spoke to the center of her brain and knew what she wanted and needed. Olivia pulled the coat tighter around herself, thankful her shivering began to subside, she could let herself sit up a little straighter in the seat. 

She pulled her hair free of its elastic band as he maneuvered the van back onto a side street that would eventually merge onto the freeway. 

“Where are we going?” Olivia asked as she raked her fingers through her hair and tried to smooth it into place before she twisted it up into a loose bun. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he said and smirked at her expression. 

“Where, who, what is going to happen to me?” she finally managed as she slid her arms through the jacket, the fabric worn smooth against the movements of his body, now kissed her bare skin. 

Billy was quiet for nearly two miles, any longer and Olivia might have had an aneurysm. 

He stopped in the line of cars for the metering lights and looked over at her. Olivia couldn’t blink when he captured her eyes and spoke. “Are you a Supe fucker?”

Olivia frowned and pressed her lips together as she shook her head. “I most certainly am not.”

“No? No drawing some blood and fucking one or ten? Is that why you’re working there, a fucking Supe groupie?”

“Why do you keep saying such awful things to me, you sound so much like those disgusting fucking pigs I work with. Just stop, what the fuck do you want from me?” she shouted. 

Butcher looked back towards the road as he rolled up a few car lengths in the bumper-to-bumper traffic. 

“I want to know everything about Vought. I want to know what you cunt Supe makers have in your vending machines,” he growled.

“I don’t make Supes,” she snapped and crossed her arms as he flicked on the blinker and merged after a big rig carrying steel pipes. 

They both stayed quiet as traffic was stop and go for a few miles before it eventually smoothed out and everyone was eventually traveling a comfortable twenty miles more than the posted speed limit. 

“I don’t suppose I can offer you money, we can go to an ATM and I’ll get you a big, fat deposit. My family is good for the rest, leave me on the side of the road. 

Please?” Olivia added when he remained silent. 

Butcher stared ahead and tightened his hands on the steering wheel as his mind slapped him with the heady memory of his hands moving roughly on her body, his ragged cuticles snagging on the lace edge of her otherwise plain bra.

“Sorry love, you’re not going to be far from my side for a while.”

“But what use am I now? What kind of value do I have anymore?” she stumbled over before fat tears rolled down her flushed cheeks as she continued to tearfully stammer. “I’m a junior fucking scientist, I’m not even through with all the new hire paperwork.”

Butcher could feel the weight of her eyes and knew she expected an answer. “You know the inner workings of Vought,” he deflected.

Olivia scoffed, “inner workings? I work in the off-site lab; I’ve never even been in the main Vought labs.”

Butcher remained silent as she rubbed at her face and sniffed hard, murmuring to herself.

He didn’t catch what she had snapped before she turned her head and stared out the side window.

“What was that there?”

“I’ve never had a choice in any direction of my life. My education plan was outlined by the time I was born, my career chosen and employment. I was told who I could and couldn’t date.”

“Who didn’t make your mum and dad’s list?”

“The family name or rather how much money is attached to the name,” she started. “Education and lack of education,” she continued as Butcher found himself called back to his recent memories of feeling her buttery soft skin trembling under his touch. 

Butcher smirked at how he perfectly checked all of the bad boxes, wondering what her daddy would say seeing his little girl sharing the same air space as him.

Butcher cleared his throat and came back to the moment as she finished listing all the prerequisites her parents had for even sharing a conversation with her. He   
shifted on the seat as his cock very much remembered how close it was to plunging into her intimate center. 

“Do you know what it feels like to only have value because of who your family is? I don’t have value or worth on my own, I’m not even looked at like a real person. I’m a prop, told to smile and read off the script, no one hears me or sees me,” Olivia continued as she sniffed hard.

“I see you,” slipped from between Butcher’s lips without his permission. 

She shook her head. “You only see some perceived ransom value or whatever it is you think I can tell you. You’re only seeing me now; you hate everything about who I am and where I work.”

Butcher knew she wouldn’t believe anything he said in that moment and most likely didn’t want to hear him speak at all. 

“What do you want?” Olivia asked as she turned in her seat to face him as much as the seatbelt would allow.

Butcher glanced over at her; his eyes lingered a moment at the peek of her bare shoulder as his jacket shifted. His mouth went dry as he could still feel the taut elastic band of her panties under the pads of his fingertips. He cleared his throat as he passed a slow-moving logging truck. 

“We’ve got a drive ahead of us, why don’t you try to get some sleep?” he finally suggested.

“I’m not going to be able to sleep unless I know what to expect,” Olivia quickly countered.

Butcher blew out a sharp breath at her stubbornness. “I’m going to find a place to stop after I cover a few more hours,” he finally offered.

“What happens once we arrive to that place?”

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and shot her a quick glance before answering. 

“I haven’t thought past that,” he said honestly before adding. “At this point, I’m guessing we’ll stay there for the night and keep traveling a little further each day.”

Olivia nodded and shifted in the seat until she was once again facing forward and watching the mile markers pass at their brisk traveling pace. 

The shrill ring of Butcher’s phone on the automatically connected Bluetooth startled her and she blinked her eyes rapidly as the dashboard screen lit up with the caller ID, “Mum.”

Butcher glanced over to meet her eyes. “I need to take this; you need to keep your mouth closed. Do you know what I’m saying?”

She nodded quickly, fear tightening her chest in varying bands of pressure.

“Mum, hello?”

Olivia kept her breath deep and even as his mother’s broken voice came across the speakers. 

“Billy, it’s your father, he’s in surgery.”

Butcher tightened his fingers around the wheel as he felt Olivia’s eyes on his profile, hearing the same words. 

He cleared his throat and met Olivia’s eyes briefly as his mother continued. “Will you come see us son? I could use your support and company.”

Butcher remained silent, wanting to tell Connie to tell the surgeon to cut out his father’s heart and feed it to a stray dog. He was aware of Olivia paying attention to everything he did. He knew more aggression would only push her further into fear until it hobbled her or caused her to act recklessly. 

“Please Billy?” Connie asked again. 

“Of course, mum,” he finally said and gave a loud string of curses when a car two lanes over had a rear tire blowout and slid across the road. The cars in front of   
them all came to a sudden stop and Butcher navigated the car through the snarl of traffic that was able to keep flowing. 

Olivia’s face drained of color; she had cried out as they nearly missed being in a multi-car pileup. “Who’s that with you?” his mom asked and added quickly. “Is that   
the fiancé you’ve been talking about for years? Are we finally going to get to meet her?”

Butcher met Olivia’s eyes; he couldn’t believe his ears when she began to speak. “Yes, I’ll be coming along. I feel like I should call you mom with how many times we’ve missed being able to meet,” Olivia said in a sing-song tone. 

“Yes, you should, what’s your name dear?”

“Olivia,” she said cheerily and smoothed her hair back as Butcher spared her quick glances as he moved to the slow lane and exited the freeway in the direction of a strip mall. He pulled the car to a stop at a brightly lit burger drive thru parking lot.

“What a lovely name, please call me Connie.”

“I’m so sorry about your husband Connie,” Olivia said and swallowed hard under Butcher’s intense stare.

“Thank you dear, Billy are you still there?”

“Yes,” he said and moved his eyes away from Olivia’s face as he addressed the screen. “When should we expect you?”

He glanced at the clock before speaking. “We’re heading….home,” he started and met Olivia’s eyes as he continued. “We’ll pack and could be there in about nine hours.”

“Thank you, son, your father will be happy to hear it also. Drive safe you two.”

“Thanks Connie, I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“You too dear.”

After the call ended, Butcher and Olivia remained in silence until he spoke first. “Why did you do that?” he finally asked as he turned in his seat to look at her.

“I don’t want you to kill me, I don’t want to die,” she said breathlessly and dropped her head to stare at her hands. 

Butcher knew he was responsible for the birth, nurturing and upbringing of that fear. 

“I never planned on actually killing you, it was just some fucking bantering love,” he finally said.

Olivia scoffed, “that’s completely believable.”

Butcher found himself growing unnaturally irritated that she was avoiding his eyes, he wanted to unclip his seatbelt and force her to meet his gaze. 

“Vought hasn’t disavowed you,” he said, switching topics in the hope he could knock her off-balance.

Olivia quickly raised her head and met his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There was some slick doctor bloke making a public plea for your safe return.”

“Do you know which doctor?”

Butcher shook his head, “he was wearing a bowtie, cute hair.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, “I think I know who you mean.”

“He a co-worker?”

Olivia shook her head and pointed at the glowing logo of the fast-food burger chain. “Can I get something to drink?”

Butcher nodded and started the van and headed towards the drive-thru lane as Olivia continued. 

“He’s the supervisor for our department, I have to check in with him a lot.”

“Does he bother you?” Butcher asked after he put in their order. They both realized the extent of their hunger when the smell of fries, onion rings and bacon double   
cheeseburgers reached their noses. 

Olivia shrugged wordlessly and pretended to pick at an imaginary hangnail. 

Butcher noted her non-answer for later, he searched his pockets for cash as he tried to recall the news report and the doctor pleading with the camera. “I get what he   
sees in you, you’re quite tasty up close and personal,” he thought as he pulled the van up to the first set of drive-thru windows. 

He paid with a bunch of ones and handful of loose change before returning to the same parking spot and cutting the engine. They each slipped off their seatbelts and for the next ten minutes were both completely focused on eating, eating, and eating and washing it all down with soda.

Butcher flipped down the visor and looked at his forehead that she had barely kissed with the tire iron as she wiped her hands down with a wet nap the burger chain provided with their notoriously messy food.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said as she watched him press his fingertips to the bruised skin.

Butcher chuckled. “No need to apologize love, you did whatever anyone would do when a cunt lays their unwanted hands on you.” 

They stuffed their napkins and wadded up burger wrappers back in the paper bag before getting back onto the freeway. 

Olivia adjusted the heater vents to blow on her lower legs and bare feet. 

Butcher glanced over. “There’s a strip mall outside where my mum lives. I’ll stop there and somewhere for you to cleanup first.”

Olivia nodded her thanks as she settled deeper in the well-stitched layers of his jacket, breathing in the warm aroma of his masculinity as she tugged the fabric tighter around herself.

“What’s going to happen when your mom meets your real fiancé and we’re obviously not the same person?” 

“There isn’t a fiancé, it makes the talks with the mum easier.”

Olivia nodded. “What does your mom think your fiancé does? Who is your fiancé?”

Butcher flicked on his signal and moved to the second lane before he answered. “I’ve never been too specific,” he admitted with a shrug. 

Olivia opened her mouth to speak and only managed something incoherent. 

He glanced over, clear he wanted her to repeat herself.

“Can I ask for something?”

“What?” he said quickly, curious to hear what she wanted.

“Will you please be as kind to me as I imagine you’ll be when your mother is around?”

Butcher cocked an eyebrow. “Kind?” he scoffed.

Olivia nodded, immediately flushed with anger, and filled with defensiveness at his back-handed reply. 

“Yes, I want you to act like you don’t hate me even when your mother isn’t in the same room.”

“You think you’ve got some kind of fucking voice when it comes to that? I didn’t ask you to be my fucking bird,” he reminded her. 

“Is it so difficult to just be a little kind?”

“Was Homelander kind when he unleashed fire?”

“No,” she said flatly.

As Butcher stared ahead at an upcoming interchange, hours back at what was once the mechanic shop turned safehouse, flames licked high into the air. 

Above the carnage, after a quick mid-air celebratory fuck, Homelander and Storm Front flew back to Vought to report a total mission success. Their individual egos   
alone prevented them from even considering searching for survivors, collectively they were the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse riding on the radioactive blast of ten Chernobyl’s. 

No one witnessed the smallest movement among the rubble. As activity at the still burning safehouse increased, hours away, Butcher continued putting more distance between them and Vought. 

Olivia had fallen silent and stared out the window as the miles passed.


	4. Hidden Geographical Landmarks

Hours passed as the tires consumed miles of asphalt. Butcher eventually turned on the radio to a low volume since Olivia continued to stay silent, staring out the side window. 

He saw the exit sign approaching for the strip mall with a couple big box retailers where he could get everything they might need from deodorant to fresh underwear. 

Butcher didn’t trust her to cooperate in the store among so many people and he also didn’t trust the idea of her staying in the van. He dropped his left hand to the utility pocket of his thigh and felt the small zippered case tucked away. 

Inside the small case were three preloaded syringes of a potent mix of a benzodiazepine base and barbiturate chaser with a surgical anesthetic. It would keep her sedated long enough for him to shop and get to a temporary place to cleanup before heading to see his parents. 

Olivia perked up in her seat as he exited the freeway, and they drew closer to the mall. 

Butcher parked in the rear of the lot and feigned interest in the vehicle manual for a supposed light that lit up on the dashboard. Olivia went back to resting her head against the seat and didn’t notice when the sound of the pages turning stopped.

Olivia made a strange noise as he plunged the needle into the top of her thigh. She felt a curious chilly and then burning sensation as the drug filled her system.

Butcher moved with ferocious deftness and had her seatbelt unclasped and gathered up in his arms before she could entirely process everything that was happening at once. 

He dragged her to the rear of the van and pressed his hand over her mouth as the cold floor bit into the bare skin of her calves. 

Butcher shushed her as he watched her pupils began to dilate and her movements slow as her touch weakened from where she clawed at him. 

He blew out a relieved breath as she finally succumbed to the tranquilizer. He secured her onto her side and still zip-tied her wrists and ankles as well as applied a thick strip of silver tape over her mouth as an insurance policy while he shopped. 

Butcher moved through the store and efficiently filled the cart everything they might need as well as suitcases to pack. He paid cash from an envelope in the glove compartment that was for emergency use only. 

There was a cheap hotel about an hour away that operated on a cash only basis and was usually rented hourly. 

Butcher loaded all the purchases into the van and checked on Olivia. He got back behind the wheel once he was satisfied she was okay within the clutches of the tranquilizer.

He drove at a reasonable pace on the bumpy backroads until he found the rundown hotel. 

He parked the van at the end of the lot and rented the room that was near to where he parked. Butcher turned the van around and quickly got her inside the room without any unwanted eyes on him. 

Butcher settled her under the covers and clipped away the nylon zip-ties and slowly pulled off the tape, wiping the rough pad of his thumb across her lower lip as he wiped away residue from the silver adhesive strip. 

He showered with the door open to make sure she didn’t suddenly wake up and bolt. 

Butcher was watching the local news with no mention of the fire at the mechanic shop turned safe house when Olivia began to stir. 

He turned off the tv and set his bottle of alcohol aside as Olivia stirred awake and blinked her eyes rapidly as she looked around the room with the walls stained a yellow hue from the overabundance of tobacco use. 

“What?” she murmured and scrambled backwards until the headboard stopped her when her eyes fell on Butcher. Olivia looked down at herself when she realized she was in a bed. 

She frowned as she seemed to recall him sticking a needle in her thigh and then nothing more.

Olivia smoothed her hands down the front of her body. “Did you….. did you do anything to me?” she managed to ask.

Butcher reminded himself that she had every right to ask that question. “I just stuck a needle in ya love, you’d know if it was more,” he said tonelessly and winked at her. 

Olivia flushed and looked away from him, unsure whether to believe him. “Where are we?”

She tried to remember her geography as he mentioned a city right outside his parents sprawling country home.

“You need to cleanup,” he said and pointed to a couple plastic bags outside the bathroom door. “I picked up a lot of stuff that I thought you’d need; the hot water works in there.”

Olivia nodded and initially stood up too slowly, nausea welled up from her belly and her vision began to close in before she heavily sat back down. 

Butcher stayed seated as she waved him off and shook her head. She squeezed the bridge of her nose before standing up more slowly. Olivia sorted through the bags and carried a bunch of stuff into the bathroom before securing the flimsy lock on the door.

Butcher listened to the shower water drone on and pictured her naked body under the spray of water. He drank deeply from the slender bottle of barrel-aged whiskey as he smoothed a hand down to squeeze his cock through his pants as he imagined opalescent soap bubbles sliding across and popping on her bare, wet flesh. 

As Olivia rinsed off, Butcher dialed his mom for an update and continued drinking from the bottle as if it were an oasis in the desert. Connie said his father had made it through surgery well but was in ICU for the next several days and wouldn’t be able to have visitors. 

Butcher told Connie that Olivia was a little car sick from all the travel and they were going to spend a couple days resting up. Connie was more than understanding, more caught up in the idea of her son having someone to call his own.

Olivia emerged from the bathroom, accompanied by floral scented steam. 

She put her dirty clothes in one of the empty store bags and twisted her hands nervously, unsure of where to sit. 

Butcher noticed her discomfort and pointed to a bag to the right of her feet. “There’s some stuff to eat in there if you’re hungry.” 

Olivia pawed through the bag and opened a soda and package of trail mix as she resumed sitting on the side of the bed. She glanced over as he continued drinking from the bottle, the level of booze in the bottle dipped behind the off-white label. 

Butcher kept the tv on to the news that began its nationwide coverage as she quickly gulped a soda, her mouth parched from the drug still floating throughout her central nervous system. 

Butcher frowned at the poor-quality screen when the blonde news anchor began talking about the hurricane bearing down on the state of Florida. 

He looked over to Olivia where she was rooting around in the plastic bag for another soda.

“Florida,” he said to Olivia’s profile.

“What’s that?” she asked as she returned to the bed and opened the soda. 

“Florida,” he repeated as he distinctly recalled MM confronting her over a message on her phone. “Someone called you Florida.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and slid back until she could lean against the headboard and pull the bed linen over her lap. “It’s a stupid nickname.”

“How’d that nickname start?”

Olivia shook her head. “Because I work with children, it’s nothing worth repeating.”

Butcher turned off the tv and turned towards her. “I’d like to know, no matter how juvenile.”

She blew out a breath and chuckled nervously. “It’s really nothing at all, I can hardly remember the specifics anyway. 

Olivia flinched when he rose to his feet. 

He could see and hear the lie.

“Tell me why your nickname is Florida.”

“What time is it?” she asked suddenly. “Don’t we have to get to your mom’s?”

Butcher shook his head. “I told her we’ll be there in a couple of days; we have plenty of time.”

Olivia tucked the linen tighter under her thighs, darting her eyes around him. 

“Why Florida?”

“Nothing worth repeating,” she said and held his eyes.

“You’re going to have to play along quite a bit more in front of my mother if anything is to be believable.”

“Playing along and talking about unimportant things is completely different.”

“I’ve decided knowing the meaning of the nickname is important love.”

Olivia sat up straighter and smoothed her hands nervously over the linen. “Can you please drop it?” she asked as she raised the soda to take a sip.

She gave a startled shout when Butcher snatched away the soda can with one hand while his other hand closed around her slim wrist. “Tell me now.”

Olivia uselessly tried to yank herself free as he only tightened his grip. 

“I have a birth mark okay, a birth mark that looks like the state of Florida, nothing as clandestine as I’m sure you imagined.”

Butcher immediately pictured all the people that he was sure she’d let look at her body. “Which Supe were you fucking that spread that around?” he growled. 

Olivia flushed, “there was a woman in the changing room who made sure everyone knew.”

Butcher leaned back and looked over the bare skin he could see, he racked his brain trying to remember the naked flesh he saw earlier but couldn’t recall a single mole, let alone definitive shapes. 

“Where is it?” he asked in a peculiar tone.

Olivia averted her eyes and resumed trying to tug her hand free. “It’s covered for the most part in whatever I wear.”

“Lemme see,” he murmured.

Olivia shook her head until strands of her hair slipped free of her messy bun and fell across her eyes. “There’s absolutely no reason to do that.”

Olivia froze as Butcher pushed a few of the loose tendrils away from her face before he joined her on the bed and began to pull the linen away from her. 

“Wait, give me a minute,” she pleaded and took a relieved breath when he paused. 

“Well?” he said when she remained frozen and wordless.

“What’s the point of all this?”

“We’re going to have to appear to be comfortable together, like you’re choosing to be my bird. You wouldn’t be embarrassed around me,” he murmured as he resumed tugging at her clothes. 

In the back of his mind, he truly thought she had fucked her way through the day on varying Supe and human cocks.

Butcher froze when her open palm found his cheek. She loudly slapped him and moved her hand back to slap him again when he quickly captured her other wrist and wrestled her to the messy surface of the bed. 

Olivia started to shout as he transferred the grip of her wrists to one of his large hands and pinned her arms above her head. He roughly pulled at her clothes as he shifted his weight to pin her against the mattress.

Her struggling ended up bringing her thighs to either side of his hips. “Let me up,” she screeched and bucked her hips up against him.

Butcher closed his eyes as her squirming brought her pelvis closer to his and made her breasts smash against his chest.

“Let me up,” she repeated angrily and froze when his masculine laugh caused her to shiver. “Not a chance, especially when you’re doing that.”

He continued to chuckle as a warm blush filled her visible bare skin. 

“Where is it?” he whispered huskily and tore her inexpensive pajama top open, the plastic buttons flying to bounce off the walls. 

Olivia wrinkled her nose as his hot exhale smelled like a distillery. “You’re drunk,” she shouted futilely.

“Where?” he growled

“My leg,” she finally muttered as Butcher dragged his gaze downwards and yanked her pajama bottoms free.

“Where?” he asked, his eyes urgently finding only bare skin.

“The inside, the inside of my right thigh,” she admitted lowly. 

Olivia froze as Butcher smoothed his large hand up the inside of her smooth thigh, goosebumps breaking out under his fingertips. 

Butcher pushed at her thigh until he could see the deep brown mark in the shape of Florida. 

He traced his index finger down the crease of her thigh, bisecting the shape on her smooth skin. 

Butcher met and held her eyes he licked his thumb and smoothed the pad of his thumb across her naked flesh. 

“How many people have seen this?” he rasped. 

Olivia was silent too long for his liking as he pushed her thighs further apart and settled closer to her. “How many Supes have seen this?” he growled and let his broad frame threaten to force the air from her lungs.

“None,” she spit, anger making her eyes flash with fire. “I haven’t slept with a single person in that fucking company,” she shouted up into his face.  
Butcher frowned, “that’s an easy thing to prove.”

Olivia couldn’t help but roll her eyes like a petulant teen. “What? What exactly does that mean?”

Butcher’s anger surged at her smirk. “It’d just be real easy to find out if you were a used up slag with a loose cunt.”

Olivia was bombarded with too many emotions at once. The deluge threatened to drown her. Her fear competed with anger and indignation. She shook her head as involuntary tears filled her eyes and she flushed. “You’re fucking disgusting, get off of me,” she managed with a voice that threatened to break with each of her spoken syllables. 

“I don’t hate you,” Butcher whispered brusquely. 

“What?” she managed, off balance by his statement for the moment. 

“Earlier you said I hated you, I don’t.”

Olivia sagged under him, any effort to break his hold was never based in reality. “Fine, you don’t hate me, can you let me up?”

“Where do you need to go?” he murmured, noticing the slight hitch in her breath when he pressed himself closer to her. He wanted to pull his hardening cock free until her panties were the only layer preventing him from burning himself in her wet center. 

“The bathroom,” she said flatly. 

Butcher stared at her so long she started to squirm “Don’t take too long,” he finally said as he released her hands and let her walk to the bathroom. 

He tapped the room’s heater dial and found it broken. He straightened the blankets, already feeling the encroaching cold. 

Olivia emerged from the bathroom and found him draining the bottle and nearly missing the table as he tried to set it down. She perched on the side of the bed as he lowered the volume of the tv and turned towards her.

Butcher noticed her try to suppress her shiver. 

He flipped back the bed linen and immediately had Olivia’s full attention as he slipped out of his clothes until he was wearing a blue-striped pair of boxers. She looked over at the tv and pretended to be interested in the AARP commercial. 

Butcher patted the mattress space next to her. “Get under the covers.”

Olivia frowned at him, a million words behind her lips that were pressed together in a firm line.

“I promise I shan’t do anything untoward,” Butcher said and tipped an imaginary cap.


	5. False Perceptions

Olivia rubbed her hands together briskly as she slid under the thin bed linen. 

“The heater don’t work,” he mumbled as he scrolled though the channels until he found a station with one of many just add water insta-marriage reality shows. This one was based on science.

Butcher glanced over and saw how uncomfortably cold she was.

“These rooms aren’t made for sleeping love, come closer, I’ll keep ya warm.”

Olivia frowned and shook her head. 

“Don’t be daft,” he grumbled as she crossed her arms. 

“Come here,” he growled and yanked her against him, molding her against his side.

He heard her sharp intake as he slid his hand to rest on her lower back and adjusted her closer. 

Olivia held herself stiff within the circle of his arms. Eventually her neck began to ache from holding her head at such an uncomfortable angle. 

Butcher smiled when he felt her rest the side of her face over his heart. 

He closed his eyes and left his hand resting on the curve of her lower back as the torrid show played in the background. 

He knew his sleep would be deep and heavy with how much alcohol he had consumed. He reached over to a small, unzipped satchel on the rickety side table and pulled out a thick pair of nylon zip-ties. 

“What are you doing?” she shouted, suddenly full of life as he closed one plastic loop around her slim wrist. 

“I can’t have you running about unattended can I?” he mumbled as he secured the other end to the headboard, still giving her ample space to move.

“Where could I go?” she shouted and yanked at the plastic bracelet. 

“Anywhere but where I can see you is unacceptable,” murmured as he pulled the linen up and around them and arranged her back into his arms.

Olivia lapsed into silence, knowing there was no reason to waste any kind of energy, tear, or word against the current situation. 

She rolled her eyes as he quickly lapsed into a drunken sleep.

Olivia laid awake for several hours listening to the reality show wedding and Butcher’s snoring before she also fell asleep. 

In his essentially passed out state, he had somehow shifted lower in the bed and ended up with his arms wrapped around her waist and the side of his face pressed between her breasts, his snoring was smothered by the cotton long-sleeved night shirt he had hastily picked out at the big box retailer. 

Olivia was not blessed with the dreamless sleep of the drunk and instead was plagued with visions of being chased by winged tormentors and monsters that jumped out of sewer holes. 

Olivia’s frantic moaning called Butcher from his deep sleep and he took a long time waking up. He blinked slowly as her shivering form within his grasp suddenly had him awake. 

Butcher pulled the covers back up that had slipped from her shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down the chilly skin of her upper arm. He made low hushing sounds as he awkwardly tried to find a way to comfort her. He shifted until he could clip the nylon ties loose and gather her up more completely in his arms.  
Olivia moaned in her sleep as he shifted her more fully into his arms. 

Butcher adjusted the flat, lifeless pillow behind her head and moved with hesitating slowness to hook an errant lock of hair that had fallen over her face. He let the rough pad of his fingertip brush along the line of her cheekbone as he tucked the silken strands behind her ear. 

He let his thumb trail down to trace the outline of her lips and shuddered lowly when she moaned in her sleep under his unusually light touch.

As Butcher succumbed to the alcohol’s intoxicating embrace, back at the previous mechanic shop turned safehouse, emergency medical crews and fire personnel checked the rubble of ground zero that Stormfront and Homelander had created. 

As the first responders and law enforcement searched and secured the scene, Butcher and Olivia continued to sleep. 

Butcher stirred awake first and listened to her deep and even breathing before he opened his eyes. He ran his eyes over every square centimeter of her face and memorized each individual pore. He adjusted the linen around her after he slipped from the bed linen. 

He took a quick shower and was drying his face as she stirred. 

Olivia rubbed her eyes as she sat up in the tangled linen. She was instantly awake as her eyes found him drinking from a Styrofoam cup.

“Is that coffee?” she croaked.

Butcher nodded in the direction of the bedside table and her bleary eyes found an identical cup filled three-quarters of the way with black coffee. Next to the cup was a scattering of real and artificial sugar packets and plastic tubs of creamer that never expired. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled and sweetened the coffee until it could attract a honeybee and drank it quickly, anxious for the caffeine kick as it warmed her chest and belly.

Butcher and Olivia each drank their coffee as he found a new station that was in mid-segment of two survivors being pulled from the rubble of the mechanic shop turned safe house. 

Butcher turned up the volume as the Fire Chief addressed a pool of reporters and stated two survivors were transferred to a critical care unit at the heart of the city. 

The names were currently being withheld.

Olivia nearly choked on the French roast as her face flashed on the screen as missing, her phone and identification were found at the scene but no body. A preliminary sketch of Billy also flashed on the screen, the crude drawing captured his haunting eyes and furrowed brow. A toll-free number flashed on the screen for any information on either of them. 

The news anchor projected concern at the camera as she pleaded for safety for the young doctor and flashed another picture of Olivia. The picture was Olivia at her sister’s wedding the summer before in a vintage couture pale peach off the shoulder gown. 

Butcher set down his coffee cup as he turned to look at Olivia nestled among the tangled bed linen. He suddenly saw an image of the shattered hummingbird in the front of his mind. 

He clicked off the tv and cleared his throat before he spoke. “Well, looks like our travel plans have changed love,” he murmured with a smirk. 

“What does that mean?”

“We’ll have to head north, avoid the main roads, tolls. We’ll need a new car too,” he said more to himself.

“I’m not traveling anywhere further with you,” she said as she sat up straighter before she continued. “You saw the news, let me walk out of here and hitchhike home, I’ll say I don’t remember anything.”

Butcher shook his head, “that don’t work anymore. You’re stuck with me.”

Olivia scoffed and pushed the covers away as she got out of the bed. 

“Where ya going love?”

“To take a shower,” she spit and slammed the cheap bathroom door. 

Butcher grinned at the closed door and listened as she yanked on the faucet. 

He snuck back to the vending machine and fed a few more quarters and dollar bills for some wheat crackers with a cheese-colored cheese spread and some cookies. 

Before she cranked the faucet off, he called his mom and tried to explain away the news footage she had seen, gave her an IOU for a visit from him and his fiancée and then destroyed his phone. The van was old enough that it didn’t have a factory installed GPS system. 

Olivia emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her wet hair.

She was grateful to see the carb-loaded and sugary snacks on the bedside table.

Butcher watched her root in the plastic store bags for a generic body lotion with a heady lavender scent. 

She settled against the headboard and watched the news rerun the same news conference with the fire chief. 

When the commercial break started, Butcher set the remote control aside and walked to the bathroom to wipe his hands clean of the sticky remnants of his packaged breakfast pastry. 

He wiped his hands dry as he watched Olivia in the mirror’s reflection. He set the washcloth down on the cracked countertop as he watched her towel dry her hair and run a plastic comb through the damp strands. 

He held his breath as she pulled up the legs of her loose sleepwear to her knees and squeezed the narrow tube of lotion until she plopped a dollop on her shin and began spreading it on her lower legs and feet. 

Butcher’s chest tightened and he gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white as she massaged more lotion into her elbows and shoulders. His eyes tracked her every move as she ran her hand over the top of her chest. He became hypnotized by the circular motion of her hands over her neck and shoulders before she squeezed more lotion into her palm and began to massage the scented cream onto her right knee.

His brain made him move before he was consciously aware and noisily pushed open the door the rest of way. She flinched and nearly dropped the bottle as he stomped towards her. 

“Stop doing that,” he shouted as he ripped the store brand tube from her startled grasp. 

“What?” she said as she held her hands out in front of hers, futile in an attempt at any kind of defense but she projected a lot of energy into the façade. 

“I’d like to be doing that,” he murmured in a gravelly rasp. 

Olivia scooted away from him and pulled at the linen anxious to be under them.

She gave a startled shout when he moved with terrifying speed and captured her closest ankle.

Olivia remained frozen as he began to massage his strong hands on her foot. 

She held her breath as he squeezed the bottle before he slid his hands up her calf and hooked a hand behind her knee. She gave a gasp and an unarticulated sound as he pulled her closer so he could slide both hands further up her thighs, he slipped his fingers in the waistband of her cotton pants and tugged them free. A deep growl rumbled through his chest and made her shiver involuntarily.

“Wait,” Olivia stammered and tried to yank her pants back in place. 

Butcher remained steadfast and nearly tore the fabric as he ripped it free from her body, leaving her lower half clad only in a pair of navy-blue panties. 

“I can’t give you what you want,” Olivia murmured urgently and tried to squirm away from him as he slid his hand up the inside of her right thigh. 

“We need each other love,” Butcher murmured as he captured her wrists and settled his weight against her, squashing much of her movements.

Olivia couldn’t help but scoff and shake her head. “How do you even begin to figure something like that?”

“Because I know what you need,” he growled as he dropped his face to the curve of her neck and pressed his lips over her pounding carotid pulse. 

Butcher raised his head and met her eyes. “I know what you need,” he repeated as he shifted his weight and forced her thighs further apart. 

Olivia almost rolled her eyes as he continued. 

“I know exactly what your problem is.”

“Oh yeah?” 

He chuckled as he nodded. 

The tone was too masculine, and her uterus was instantly paying attention to his every syllable.

“Please humor me.”

“You need someone to hold you down and get rid of all this tension,” he growled and transferred his hold on her wrists to one hand as he used his free hand to begin tugging at the buttons of her night shirt. 

“Oh, really? Is that your ….. your clinical diagnosis?” she spit nervously and tried to control her breathing.

Butcher let his smile shine on the inside as he slid his free hand to cup her panty covered intimacy. 

“No love, my official diagnosis is that you need someone to give you a mind-blowing fuck and help you breathe a little easier.” 

“What makes you think I haven’t tested that theory and found it a waste of time and needless ego booster for some guy?”

“I know you haven’t properly tested anything except some quick fucks in the copy room and from the uneducated.”

“Do tell,” she tried to say without letting her voice tremble as he began moving his palm in slow circles on the panty-covered outside of her pink, wet center. 

“Because your whole body is reacting to everything I’m saying, and you want me to fuck you until you feel better.”

Butcher paused his hand as he heard her breath hitch and watched anger, fear, hurt and something else unidentifiable flash across her features.

Butcher moved his hand from the apex of her thighs and back to her birthmark. Olivia was able to somewhat start catching her breath as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over its faintest raised edges.

“You never told me how many people have seen this,” he murmured as he captured her eyes. 

“None of your fucking business,” Olivia shouted as she bucked her hips and put all her energy into shaking free at least one of her hands. She succeeded in scratching at his neck as he caught her flailing wrists and roughly turned her over until his formidable frame kept her flattened to the bed. Her breath left her lungs before he covered her mouth.

Billy interpreted her defensive answer to mean a large number of cocks sucked and fucked. 

She shouted behind her hand as he smoothed a hand down the front of her plain panties.

“Shhh,” Billy soothed as his fingers found her bare, intimate flesh. He teased her feminine folds until they were wet and slid his fingertips along her soaked slit until his cock threatened to bust through his worn pants.

Olivia shook her head as he focused his index finger in methodical circles around her clit until she could barely breathe behind his large palm.

She screamed against his hand as he fumbled at his zipper and stroked his cock once it was free of the confines of his suddenly too tight pants.

Billy grunted as she tried to shake out of his grip as he tore off her panties. 

“It won’t take long love, you’ll feel better,” he growled and licked a wet line up the length of her back as he plunged his cock into her without letting her speak or move much. 

She cried out behind his palm with his first few rough thrusts. Billy immediately knew he had wildly misjudged her in every way when he pushed himself inside her tight center and felt his cock burst through her internal flimsy resistance. 

Butcher grunted as their intimate flesh wetly kissed.

Billy lifted his hand and listened to her start to hyperventilate as he tried to lessen his disjointed pace and lighten his touch. Olivia cried and moaned softly as he changed his pace. He pulled his rigid cock from her aching center as she kept her eyes squeezed shut as he pulled her hair from the curve of her neck before pressing his mouth against her flushed skin. He smoothed a hand around the front of her to rest on her belly and splayed his fingers, his hand becoming a warm five-legged octopus on her supple flesh. 

Butcher felt her pulse pounding under his lips as he groaned and fought the urge to bury his throbbing cock back inside her.

Olivia coughed and mumbled something too incoherent for him to decipher. 

Butcher tugged on her shoulder, “what was that?”

Olivia turned her face the other direction and he growled in frustration as he roughly turned her over.

He tried to catch her wrists without hurting her as she slapped and yelled at him. 

“I didn’t know,” Butcher murmured as he nuzzled his face in the curve of her neck. “Look at me,” he added in a demanding whisper.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut until he cupped a hand to her jaw, letting his thumb trace along her lower lip. “Please,” he added in a rough growl. 

“I can do better,” he growled as she opened her eyes and met his searching gaze. “I can do better,” he repeated as his warm exhale against her lips made her shiver while she simultaneously broke out in a fine sheen of sweat. 

Butcher shifted and slid his hand from her jaw down the front of her body. His first touch against her wet folds earned him a gasp and made his painfully hard cock twitch against the inside of her thigh. 

Olivia bit her lower lip as his touch created electric twinges through her body. 

“Let me try love,” he begged as she began to lose control and he pushed her closer to an orgasmic abyss. “Please,” he added in a groan that revealed his vulnerabilities, his unspoken wants and needs in that one syllable.

Olivia met his eyes as she blew out a slow breath and barely nodded as he forced her into the embrace of an overpowering orgasm that left her wet, trembling, and vulnerable under his piercing gaze.

Butcher couldn’t suppress a primal groan as he plunged himself back inside her, stopping only when he couldn’t sink inside her any further. He knew he was going to be unable to stop from finishing at a record time. 

Billy felt himself hypnotized by her ragged breathing and the feeling of her sweaty skin under his palm. He slid his hand up to cradle the back of her skull before he tightened his hand into a fist and yanked her neck back taut until he could whisper against her flushed skin. 

“I don’t hate you,” he moaned as he lessened his painful grasp within the silken fall of her hair and crushed his lips to hers as his orgasm washed over him. He let his cock stay firmly inside her until it softened and slid out. 

Billy let his forehead rest against the top of her shoulder as he caught his breath.

Before he spoke he lifted himself onto one elbow and traced the fingertips of one hand along the angles of her face. 

Olivia flushed under his wordless gaze from so close as she felt his hot, sticky cum leaking out of her wet center.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeated and lowered his lips to hover over hers as he held her eyes and added. “I don’t understand you.” 

Olivia’s breath hitched and she couldn’t find her words as he continued. Each of his words was delivered on a hot exhale against her lips.

“I want to know everything about you.”

Olivia cleared her throat and fought to hold his gaze. “Why?” 

“The moment I saw you, I wanted you all to myself,” he whispered before he pressed his lips against hers.


	6. I'm Trying

“The moment I saw you, I wanted you all to myself.”

Butcher’s words repeated loudly in her ears as his lips moved against hers. 

Olivia coughed and fought for her breath when he lifted his lips.

“Why? How? I represent all that you hate.”

Butcher shifted until he was laying alongside her. She was proud for not flinching when he traced his rough fingertips along the line of her jaw as he lowly spoke. “I saw you when I thought I was dying, you saved me not knowin’ who I could’ve been.”

Butcher continued trailing the contours of her body until he could draw small circles on the smooth skin of her hip as he added.   
“Thank you for saving my life.”

Butcher smoothed his hand down her thigh and reluctantly lifted it to grab her hand, his palm warm against hers, his strong fingers intertwining with hers. She tried to pull her hand back, but he tightened his grip. “Talk to me,” he growled.

“I have no idea what you want me to say,” she managed as she met his eyes.

Butcher squeezed her hand before releasing it. He raised the same hand to brush his thumb along her lower lip. “You don’t have to say anything now, there’ll be lots of time for that later.”

“What time?” Olivia said with more life as she pushed against broad chest. Her actions produced nothing but a deep chuckle from him.

“We need to put a lot more miles between us and those fuckin Supes.”

“You can’t really expect me to travel cross fucking country with you?”

Butcher’s lips pulled into a slow smile as he pulled her roughly into his embrace. “I do,” he started with a nod. “Do you really think Vought would let you live even if you hitchhiked your way home?”

Olivia forgot her fear for a minute. “They wouldn’t possibly hurt me; I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You saved my life; they won’t know what you said to keep yourself alive.”

Olivia fell silent as she processed his words. His body was too warm, his arms too tight and threatened to overwhelm her senses. 

Butcher felt Olivia tense and crushed her to his chest before she could try and turn inside out to get away from him. 

Olivia closed her eyes and let herself get swept up in the whirlwind of Butcher’s masculine, woodsy aroma as she took as deep a breath as his embrace would allow. 

She spoke as she kept her eyes squeezed shut. “How long until I can go home?”

As Butcher carefully constructed an answer before speaking, back at the mechanic shop, turned safe house, turned crime scene, a double-gloved technician pulled Olivia’s plastic badge from the rubble.

Frenchie’s battered form was unearthed from where several steel beams had nearly bisected his body. 

Hughie’s crushed corpse was uncovered under the vending machine that Olivia had had her stale packaged potato chip dinner. 

Mother’s Milk’s formidable frame was no match for the fire that Homelander and Stormfront had started, his heart had stopped, and his brain’s neurons stopped firing before he felt much pain.

Homelander had burned three interns to death where they stood when no traces of The Female or Starlight were found among the death and destruction. 

As Stormfront hovered over one of her social media fuck boys, her close proximity making his baby dick hard, back in the shitty hotel, Butcher lifted a hand to cup Olivia’s face until she met his eyes as he spoke softly. 

“Your home is now wherever I am love,” Butcher growled and watched the color drain from Olivia’s face as she frowned. 

“You can’t do that, I’m….,” she managed to stammer before he interrupted her. 

“You’re what?”

“I’m. I’m,” Olivia stuttered fought to not look away from his searching gaze. 

“You got some chap at home?”

“No,” she managed as she collected her thoughts. 

“Wee ones?”

“No, none of those things,” she said with a chuckle. 

Butcher was relieved to feel some of the tension recede and he lessened his hold on her until she could shift somewhat. 

“Then what?”

Olivia scoffed, “how can you ask that? Do you really think I’m going to just uproot my entire life and live with you?”

She blinked rapidly as he nodded. “What else do you have planned for me?”

Butcher had to quickly wrap her back up in his arms as she resumed squirming. “We’ll find a house and get settled love; it’ll calm down.”

“Do I even have a choice?” Olivia asked on a defeated sigh as his embrace became nearly suffocating. 

She closed her eyes as Butcher leaned closer and pressed his lips against her clammy forehead.

Olivia let herself be wrapped up in the press of his naked flesh against hers, the dampness at the apex of her thighs and the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. 

“Do I?” she murmured as Butcher smoothed a hand down her back and cupped the curve of her bottom before he spoke.

“As long as it’s my choice,” he growled as he squeezed her bare flesh until she gasped and would notice grape-sized bruises within a couple hours.

“If I were to choose differently?” Olivia asked.

Butcher raised up to find her eyes before he spoke. “I’d have to insist,” he admitted flatly. 

Olivia licked her lips nervously before she pressed them together, she couldn’t put together a sentence. 

Butcher groaned as he watched her pink tongue dart out and moisten her lips. He slid a hand down between them and stroked his softened cock, urging it to get hard. He dropped his face to the curve of her neck and inhaled deeply, pulling her warm smell into his lungs. 

“It won’t be so bad love, we won’t end up living in a place like this,” he murmured against the pulse under the smooth skin of her neck. 

“What do you expect from me?” Olivia asked as he tugged at her hips and shifted them until she was underneath him. 

Butcher stared down at her wordlessly for what seemed much longer than it was. 

He held his breath at the same time she did as he smoothed her hair off her forehead, the strands sticking to her flushed skin.

“We don’t need to talk about all that right now, why don’t we head out and you can get some real food?” he murmured as he nodded towards the remnants of her cellophane packaged snack. 

Olivia shook her head, “no, I need to know now,” she managed to stammer before pausing briefly to bite her lip. “I need to know what you expect, what’s going to happen to me. Please,” she finished in a rush. 

Butcher wanted to hear her say please again, he wanted to hear it at least twice a day for the rest of his life. He slid his hand down between them to stroke his rigidity that had gained a spark of growing appetite when he thought of her asking him to please sink himself inside her. 

Olivia struggled and failed to hide a wince as she shifted uncomfortably underneath him, her lower body aching. She desperately wanted to clean herself. She didn’t like the direction of the conversational terrain and she felt like she was talking herself into a bear trap.

“Did I hurt you?” Butcher asked as he nervously cleared his throat.

“Not permanently,” she whispered and tried to not look down and watch his hand moving on his hardening cock. 

“I’ve been trying to convey something to you,” Butcher started before trailing off into silence.

Confusion painted itself across her face as he lapsed into silence but never stopped moving his hand on his hardening rigidity. 

“What are you trying to say?”

Butcher didn’t know how to express his needs. He’d never cared or felt he had to ask for permission from anyone, he simply took what he wanted. 

As he stared down at her neck, he struggled to find words that he had never spoken before. Affection was a foreign concept and sex had always been a physiological act. Perfunctory, near autonomous. 

“What would it take for you to want me?” he asked in a ragged whisper, his eyes never leaving hers.

His words startled her. “What?” was all she lamely managed, breaking her eyes from his searching gaze.

“What would it take for you to be with me, to want me?”

“I don’t know what to say to that, I don’t understand?” she stammered.

“It’s not complicated,” Butcher murmured as he gently reached out a hand and traced his fingertips along her jawline. 

Olivia remained absolutely still in his warm embrace, his words echoing in her skull. She took a deep breath as she counted the steady rise and fall of each of his breaths. She counted six of his inhalations before speaking. 

“I can’t give you an answer just like that.” She stumbled over her words and tried to slip out of his embrace. 

“No,” he whispered urgently and closed his arms around her, trapping her against his broad chest. 

“Tell me you’ll think about it,” he practically demanded as he felt a spike in his desire to possess her and shifted until he could urge her thighs further apart. Butcher felt her inner thighs relax from their death grip against his sides and he was able to slide closer until their intimate flesh nearly kissed. 

He felt her nod against his chest and mumbled something unintelligibly.

Butcher leaned back just enough for her to lift her chin and meet his eyes. 

“I will,” she murmured with defeat in her tone and reflected in her sagging body underneath him. Olivia sniffed hard and couldn’t   
keep a few bloated tears from slipping from her eyes and roll down her flushed cheeks. 

Butcher lifted one hand to brush the shiny drops from her face, the tears clinging to his rough fingertips and moistening his ragged cuticles. 

He wanted to stop making everything a demand. When Butcher looked at her, he pictured being able to catch the falling heirloom glass hummingbird that his mother had held so close. He wanted to stop taking by force, but he couldn’t risk losing her within his arms, home, and life. 

Butcher traced the head of his cock in circles around her sensitive intimacy. Olivia gave a low hiss and pushed at his hand when he started teasing his fingertips along her feminine folds. 

“I’d like to clean up and I’m sore,” she admitted in a rush. 

Butcher lifted his fingertips. “Do you need medical attention?”

Olivia kept her hand firmly on his thick forearm, “no, I just need a little time.” He could hear her breathing rapidly increase as she tried to keep from panicking at his prolonged silence. 

Butcher dropped his face to the warm curve of her neck. His beard scratched the skin of her throat. “I’m trying hard to not insist,” he whispered raggedly against the side of her neck. His hands began to move erratically over her body.

Olivia gasped when he smoothed a hand to cup her breast and squeezed as gently as he could manage with his fierce need to possess her. “I’m trying,” he groaned as he couldn’t fight his desire any longer.

“I promise I’ll take care,” Butcher said on a ragged sigh as he nuzzled his face against her ear, speaking softly. “I want to see all of you,” he growled as he sat back and gently nudged her further thighs apart and felt his resolve dissipate completely as he grasped his hardened length and positioned himself at her opening as he tightened his hands on her hips.

“Not too vigorous,” Olivia said with a surge of panic in her voice as she dropped her hand to his wrist. 

Butcher looked down at her hand that closed around his wrist and tightly squeezed. Olivia dropped her eyes from his heated gaze and looked at his hand gripped around his rigid cock.

“I swear,” he groaned as he added raggedly. “Guide me inside you.”

Olivia bit back a gasp of pain as she tightened her grip on his wrist and helped him slide his engorged cock inside her. Her aching canal spasmed around his length and he squeezed the flesh of her hips as he watched her eyes widen from the invasion. 

Butcher pressed his lips to hers as he sank himself inside her, stretching her aching center of intimacy. 

He kept his rhythm slow and even, luxuriating in the feeling of sinking into her hot, tight center as he brushed her hair away from her neck and pressed his lips to her flushed skin. He felt a jolt through his body when he coaxed a pleasurable sounding moan from her as he licked a line up her neck and pressed his lips firmly over the large pulse in her neck. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered, and lifted his face to catch and hold her eyes as he bent her knees and brought them up to his waist as he increased his rhythm.

Olivia watched Butcher’s eyes fill with an unreadable emotion and she started to feel like caught prey when he caught her slim wrists and held her arms back against the tangled bed linen. 

He sheathed himself as fully as he could inside her as he felt his climax overtake him. 

Butcher released her hands as he felt himself come back to earth, his pulse pounding loudly in his ears. 

Olivia reached up and hesitatingly placed her fingertips on his strong jawline. She traced along his cheekbones and down the slope of his nose.

She moved her thumb across his lower lip and gave an involuntary yelp when he grabbed her wrist with the swift strike of a rattlesnake. 

Olivia held her breath as Butcher pressed his lips to the center of her palm. 

The last thing he wanted to do was move from where he was, but he knew Vought would start putting pieces together fast and they needed more miles between them and Vought’s army of creations.

Butcher lifted his lips and whispered close to her skin; each word was spoken on a warm exhale. “We can talk more when we get a whole lot further from those fucking Supes.”


	7. Shamefully Spilled Sticky Sweet Seed

As Butcher eventually loosened his stranglehold around her and they quickly milled around the shitty room retrieving every trace of their brief stay, back on the top floor of the Vought building, Dr. Craig Dalton was sitting across from Homelander who was interrogating him about every detail of Olivia’s work shift the day of Butcher and pal’s renegade style invasion. 

Craig felt himself begin to sweat with the force and intensity of Homelander’s words. 

Stormfront paced behind Craig, occasionally asking a question of her own or further clarification of Craig’s answer. 

Stormfront stared at the back of Craig’s head until he turned to look over at her from the weight of her gaze.

She gave him a saccharin sweet smile and oozed towards him, dripping danger in her black body suit. 

Stormfront knelt next to Craig’s sturdy chair and danced her fingertips up the inside of his thigh. 

“It’s okay Craig if you like her a little more than you should,” she started.

Craig cleared his throat nervously and looked away when Homelander caught his eyes and smirked. 

“You know Craig, with the right amount of information, we could get your little doctor back. I’ll make sure she demonstrates her gratitude towards you helping to locate her,” Stormfront continued as she settled her palm over Craig’s limp cock behind his designer slack’s zipper. 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he babbled and started to tremble when Stormfront started tugging at the metal tab of his zipper, embossed with the designer’s logo. 

“Really, I don’t know any more than you,” Craig continued as Stormfront yanked his belt free and ripped the fabric of his pants until her eyes fell on his cock that further shriveled under her unreadable gaze.

“Sshhh, Sshhh doctor,” Stormfront purred as she shifted until she was kneeling in front of Craig and shoved his thighs apart. “Tell us again exactly what happened that day, from the beginning,” she added as she spit a glob of spit on his flaccid shaft and started stroking the pink flesh in her strong hand. 

“I…I talked to Olivia outside and everything was like any other day, I swear,” Craig stuttered as Stormfront slid her lips in an agonizingly slow, hot path down his hardening rigidity. 

“Oh god I…I…,” he stammered as Stormfront increased her rhythm until her head was bopping up and down his hard length.

“You what Dr. Dalton?” Homelander asked as he rose from a high-backed chair.

“I checked in with her for….. the morning…the morning safety checks,” he gasped as Stormfront shoved his thighs further apart until his inner leg muscles ached and gave a startled shout as she shoved a finger into his tight anal opening. 

Stormfront chuckled with her mouth around his cock as his sphincter tightened around her forefinger. 

“Continue doctor,” Homelander ordered lowly as Stormfront began to pump her finger in the good doctor’s tight rectal opening, fucking him until she felt his prostate begin to harden under her seeking touch.

Craig gasped as his prostate hardened until it felt like a walnut under Stormfront’s penetrating finger as he tried to speak. “I… I wasn’t going to see her, to see her until the mid-day staff…staff meeting,” 

Homelander nodded and held Craig’s gaze as he walked over and yanked up on Stormfront’s hips until her mouth remained glued around Craig’s cock, but left her ass was high up in the air and ripe for the plucking.

Stormfront slurped and pulled Craig’s shaft deep into her throat as Homelander tore away her black skintight suit and soon had his cock buried to the hilt in her tight, rear opening. 

Craig cried out in shame as he filled Stormfront’s throat with a wad of hot, sticky cum. 

He couldn’t look away from Homelander who emptied himself deep inside Stormfront’s tightness.

After Stormfront rose to her full height and wiped her mouth clean, her and Homelander kept Craig there for another eight hours questioning him. They didn’t allow him to cover up and he had to sit and answer their questions as his spent cock lay flat against the inside of his thigh, spit and cum glistening under the harsh overhead lighting. 

Craig glanced down at one point and fought a humiliated flush at the ring of Stormfront’s lipstick around the base of his floppy penis.

As Craig continued to deal with the litany of questions, hours, and hours away, Butcher packed the trunk of a borrowed sedan. 

As Butcher did a once over on the grey sedan, inside the room, Olivia stared at her reflection in the sink above the bathroom sink. 

She raised her hand and watched her reflection parrot her movements. She poked at her cheek; certain everything was a dream.

“This can’t actually be happening,” she murmured and tried to remember her ordered lifestyle and what she’d normally be doing at that precise moment. 

“What fucking day is it?” she asked herself and squeezed the bridge of her nose. 

Olivia felt tears sting the corner of her eyes. 

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she ordered herself lowly. “Getting upset is not going to help.”

Olivia hadn’t realized that Butcher had come back to the room and was hovering just outside the bathroom door. 

He had been about to ask her if she was ready to go when he heard her murmuring to herself in the small, tiled bathroom.

Butcher listened at the doorway as she continued talking.

“Do you just believe him? Believe you’re not getting in a car to be driven to your death?”

Butcher let out a breath when he heard her crank the faucet on and water flooded into the porcelain sink. 

She didn’t hear the door creak as he pushed it open.

Butcher watched her scrub her face with the generic soap and rinse her face with the tepid water.

She made a startled sound when she looked up and found him in the reflection. 

“You could knock,” Olivia said and dropped her eyes from his reflected gaze as she nervously dried her hands.

She smirked but didn’t look up when he knocked sharply on the door jamb. 

Butcher crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned against the door frame as she turned to face him. 

“Yes,” he said when she met his eyes.

“Yes what?” she finally asked when it was clear he wasn’t going to expound. 

Olivia held her breath as he closed the small distance between them and settled a hand on either side of the sink, trapping her in front of him.

“Yes what?” she asked again, proud to not hear the sound of her erratic nerves in her spoken words.

Olivia’s lips parted and a small gasp escaped from between her lips when Butcher raised a hand and tucked an errant lock of her silken hair behind her ear. 

“Yes you should believe me,” he began as he brought both hands to settle on her hips and squeeze the supple flesh. “I’m not driving you to your death,” he added on a groan.

Olivia gave a startled squeal when he suddenly lifted her off her feet and settled her on the edge of the sink, pulling her thighs to either side of his waist.

“Believe me,” he demanded as he slid one hand to cradle the back of her skull and tightened his fingers into a fist within the silken fall of her hair.

His flexing fingers caused her spine to bow and forced her neck back into a smooth line. Butcher licked a warm path against the front of her throat, whispering against the wet line he made on her flushed skin.

“Believe me,” he grunted as he lessened his hold on her hair and let her sit up straighter until he could crush his lips to hers. “Believe me,” he demanded as he broke the kiss. 

Butcher didn’t give her a chance to reply as he tugged at her clothes and continued whispering, heat beginning to build within him, fueling his growing urge to possess her. 

“I regret invading your life like this,” he growled as he traced the dark fringe of her eyelashes. “I didn’t plan for this,” he grumbled as he found her eyes, searching for her unspoken words.

“What was your plan?” she managed as he roughly yanked at her clothes, keeping her locked against his formidable frame. 

Butcher paused his hands urgent movement at her question. 

Olivia saw the answer in his eyes.

Butcher felt tension rapidly fill her and he shook his head quickly. “I didn’t know who you were, you worked for the fucking Supe Makers.”

Olivia blinked her eyes slowly and tried to understand how she would appear to a bystander in her crisp white Vought lab coat.

Her breath caught in her chest as Butcher pulled her off the edge of the sink and spun her in his arms until she was looking at herself locked in his strong arms.

Olivia locked eyes with Butcher’s reflected stare and watched in slow motion as he slid his one hand down the front of her pants and under the thin layer of her satin panties until he could press his palm to her bare intimacy. 

She couldn’t look away from him as a rush of moisture saturated his fingertips he teased against her wet, tight opening. 

Olivia flushed fuchsia to the core and a fine sheen of sweat appeared on her skin as Billy chuckled lowly at her reaction. “Don’t be embarrassed love,” he growled and moved his rough fingertips in circles around her sensitive clit until she was shaking under his touch.

“Don’t reject me,” he begged as she moaned and leaned back against him, her breath coming faster as a hot coil of pleasure started in her lower belly.

“Please,” he groaned as he caught her soft ear lobe in his teeth and tugged gently as he shoved her body into a sudden orgasmic abyss. Butcher felt his cock come completely to life as her pussy gushed hot wetness over his fingers and he dropped a hand to fumble his cock free. 

Olivia’s orgasm stole her breath and left her trembling as he pushed her as easily as he could manage forward until he could nearly rip her pants and thin panties free. She moaned breathlessly as he slid his rigid shaft inside her with excruciating slowness, savoring the feel of her as her orgasm sent residual aftershocks  
through her body and made her wet walls tighten around him.

Butcher locked eyes with her in the mirror and watched the minute changes in her face as he filled her with torturous deliberateness, wallowing in her delicate intimacy squeezing around his lengthy masculinity. 

Olivia couldn’t speak because of the feelings his cock was creating as he thrust into her with a rapidly growing rhythm. She started to drop her eyes from his, but he squeezed her hips so hard that he forced a cry from her lips and raised her eyes back up to meet his. 

“Don’t reject me,” he begged on a strangled rasp as he plunged his thick rigidity inside her a few more times before his body tightened and he came in several hot spurts, deep inside her. 

Olivia shivered involuntarily as the sweat began to dry on her skin and give her a rush of the chills. She felt his cock pulse inside her as her heavy breathing matched his.

After Butcher’s cock softened and slid out of her, Olivia changed into a non-ripped pair of pants.

Butcher held open the passenger door and with fifteen minutes were headed north and about thirty miles from the interstate.

As Butcher adjusted the heater vents and mirrors, back outside the Vought building, Stormfront and Homelander rose into the air and traveled with supersonic speed until they were on the balcony of Olivia’s condo.

Butcher pressed the accelerator to match the flow of traffic as Stormfront and Homelander searched every square centimeter of Olivia’s home, looking for any further clues as to who the abducted Vought doctor was and whether she might end up working against them.


	8. What Do Your Answers Say About You?

Butcher settled the benign vehicle into the steadily moving flow of traffic as Olivia pulled a stack of magazines from the passenger door’s side pocket.

Butcher kept glancing over, memorizing her profile, wanting to interrogate her until he knew every detail about her. 

“What’s that you got there?” he asked as she thumbed through a glossy magazine.

She closed the magazine and showed him the cover that boasted tricks and tips for a flatter belly, fuller lips, and no more visible pores. 

All five lanes of cars slowed quickly as a large accident ahead was beginning to cause major delays. Butcher glanced over as he let a big rig over. 

He squinted at the page she was reading before reading the article title aloud. “What your sex and dating preferences reveal about yourself.”

Olivia started to close the magazine before Butcher’s hand shot out with viperlike speed and closed around her small wrist. 

“Read the first question.”

“Why? Those quizzes are pointless.”

“It might be fun love,” he growled as he released her wrist and dropped his hand to the top of her thigh and squeezed gently. “Question one,” he murmured.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat before smoothing the magazine page flatter as she read the first question. 

“At the end of a blind date where you really connected and feel like you could share the world with this person, you, A. Invite them in for a “nightcap” and have them in your bed before you can pour a glass. B. Wish them goodnight and arrange a second date and leave both of you wanting more with a hot make-out session C. Arrange for a second date and give them a single kiss, after all one night does not make a partner for life, or D. Who said the date ended, soul mate baby, viva Las Vegas wedding chapel anyone?”

Olivia lapsed into silence when she finished reading the question.

“Well?” he said, “which one love?”

“I read the question; you get to answer first.”

“D,” he said without further argument.

She reread the choices and set the magazine down, “really, D? Just like that?” she asked as she snapped her fingers.

“Yes,” he said as he stopped short when the car in front of them came to a complete stop. “Sometimes it just takes one look, and you know it’s the person that you can’t and won’t live without.”

“Well, that seems fast,” she finally said and stared down at the glossy page.

“Your choice then?”

“I don’t like any of them, but I guess C.”

“Very safe,” he teased and added, “read the next one.”

“When you’re into someone, where is your favorite place to be kissed or caressed? A. neck, B. chest/breasts, C. back or D. lips?”

“D,” he again answered with zero hesitation, “and your choice?” he asked, anxious to hear her answer.

“I don’t like these questions, and besides that’s all situational anyway,” she stammered.

Olivia glanced over at him and cleared her throat. “Question three, when do you start thinking about marriage? A. Love at first sight can equal being married that night. B. When you start doing any of their laundry. C. After you’ve moved in together and discussed it as adults. D. No one will ever tie me down.”

Butcher looked over at her briefly, “well?”

She shook her head, “these quizzes are so ridiculous, they’re all nothing I’d pick but parts of B and obviously talking about it before hand. If you’re cleaning up after each other, you’ve probably seen the other not at their best,” she reasoned.

He nodded, “I could see that,” he agreed. “I have to go with A.”

Olivia reread A and pressed her lips together. 

She felt a warm blush fill her face when he closed his hand around her left hand and traced the pad of his thumb in circles on top of her bare ring finger. 

“Question four,” she started in a rush, looking forward to moving past the question. 

“What is your ideal wedding? A. A traditional wedding with a five-tiered cake and a Hawaiian honeymoon. B. Hop in the car and elope wherever the road takes you. C. A quiet intimate wedding with a handful of friends and nice dinner out. D. I only attend weddings with open bars and endless pastel Jordan almonds.”

They were both silent as the mile markers passed, “I have to agree with you that none of those answers truly fit,” he said.

“What would your answer be if it was a fill in the blank?”

“I’m happy with any kind of wedding,” Butcher said as he glanced over and raked his eyes over her, his pupils dilating with heat. 

“Which one would you pick?”

“I’ve always wanted to find a dress like one of those cartoon princesses,” she said with an embarrassed laugh, “and a fancy cake.”

“That sounds just fine with me,” he growled and urgently squeezed the top of her leg. 

“Question five,” she said and scanned the rest of the page. “Good lord, there’s still five more questions,” she thought as she read the words with the curvy font from the glossy page. “How about children and when is the best time for that conversation? A. Children are created through love, talk about it all the time. B. Kids or no kids, doesn’t matter to me. C. I’d have to be financially stable and in a solid relationship first. D. No.”

“No, I mean D,” Olivia said firmly.

“Same,” he said quickly in the same tone. 

“Well that’s a relief,” she said with a laugh, she had not wanted to debate that with him.

“It is,” he agreed and added as he shook his head. “I didn’t want to have that conversation with you,” he admitted.

“Question six, you get an unexpected and impromptu three-day weekend. How will you spend it? A. Call pals and/or significant other and take a redeye to Vegas. B. Romantic bed and breakfast with your sweetie. C. Spend the weekend binge-watching tv and eating take-out D. Get to the home improvement store and finally clean out the closets and shampoo the carpets.”

“They’re all not the worst choices,” she added after she finished reading the question. “I’d prefer to stay close to home though, my ideal would be a blend of C and D.”

Butcher smiled, “I could get around that.”

Olivia closed the magazine. “Can we take a quiz break?” she asked as she rolled down the window a few inches. 

Butcher watched her dig to the bottom of the side door pocket before pawing through the glove compartment. 

He was about to ask her what she was looking for when she gave a relieved sigh and pulled a battered pack of filtered cigarettes from under the vehicle manual. She fruitlessly scanned the dashboard for a lighter. 

“Here ya go love,” he murmured as he fished a grass green lighter from his pocket. 

He declined her offer to share the half-empty pack. “I don’t smoke, that’s just for luck.”

“Does it work?” she asked as she leaned towards him as he flicked the lighter and produced a flame.

“Well you’re sitting next to me right now.” 

She inhaled and held the smoke as she regarded him without a readable expression before exhaling out the window.

As Butcher continued to put more miles on the large engine, hours in the opposite direction, Starlight coughed, her lungs still burning from Homelander and Stormfront’s combined assault on the mechanic shop turned safe house. 

The Female had healed faster and had already wired together a bunch of computer, tablet, and phone parts to hack into the local law enforcement servers. 

Both women mourned differently and collectively as they worked on a plan to topple Vought. The Female had found a condemned building with a decent roof and the two women recuperated there as they tried to find out what happened to Butcher and the Vought scientist. 

The law enforcement network had been quiet, Starlight assumed that Vought told them to end their investigation after some significant money changed hands. 

As Starlight wiped dried blood from her nose, hours and hours in the opposite direction, Butcher exited the interstate and eventually ended up on a dirt road which eventually led to an RV rental and storage lot and summertime campground. 

The large-bannered entryway said to proceed forward to drop off your car for a complimentary wash before parking or to rent an RV, it was a left turn.

There were a few cars waiting to turn left and Butcher flipped on his turn signal before looking over at her. She’d lapsed into silence. “What’s going on in your head over there love?”

She wouldn’t have been able to summarize even if she’d had eight hours to prepare.

“Are you really serious about an actual life together?”

“Yes,” Butcher said as he reached over and grasped her left hand, his rough palm in sharp contrast with her smooth skin. He squeezed her hand and traced the pad of his thumb in slow circles on the top of her bare ring finger. 

“I didn’t plan on this happening love,” he started before he moved up in the slow-moving line. “Tell me what you need from me.”

Olivia stared down at his large hand closed around hers as he approached the drive-through registration booth. 

Luck or something was with Butcher and Olivia. The bored teenager behind the counter didn’t even look up at them once. Butcher filled out the form with some bullshit personal information and paid in cash. The kid passed Butcher a set of keys with a blue plastic fob and turned his lack of attention to the next waiting customer. 

Butcher parked next to a sleek gunmetal grey RV with turquoise accents. “What do ya think?” he asked breaking her out of her daze. 

“It’s fancy” she said honestly and both of them heard her stomach growl. She giggled embarrassedly. 

“I’ll stock the fridge as soon as we get a little further from here. There’s a little minimart I can stop at before we head out.”

Butcher moved their bags to the RV as Olivia took a self-guided tour. 

She was relieved to see a small shower that he said had hot water as well as a gas stove. She peeked in the cupboards and under the sink before finding him unpacking the clothes, some still with tags, into a small dresser in the cozy bedroom.

The full-sized mattress was covered with a sapphire blue bedspread. “Which side of the bed would you like?” he asked, deliberately injecting heat into his words. 

“Against the wall please,” she whispered and backed up until the opposite dresser stopped her progress. 

Butcher nodded and held out a grey plastic bag towards her. “What’s that?” she asked as she tentatively took the bag from him and reached inside the bag. 

He remained quiet as she answered her own question. 

“This is nice,” she murmured lamely as she pulled the deep violet nightgown from the bag. 

“I’d like you to put that on.”

She pretended to not hear him and couldn’t move away fast enough when he suddenly closed the space between them. “Put it on love,” he said sternly. 

“Now?” she asked, stalling. 

Butcher nodded and took the bag from her hands. She held her breath as he pulled the buttery soft gown free and pressed it into her reluctant hands. “You can change in there if you’d like,” he said huskily and pushed open the small bathroom partition. 

“I don’t want to change into this right now,” she said as she stay rooted to the spot. 

“Do you not like it?”

“It’s very pretty,” she admitted.

“So, why don’t you want to wear it?”

“Because you still terrify me,” she thought and looked anywhere but him.

“I’m afraid you’re going to kill me,” she wanted to say and instead tucked the gown back into the plastic bag as she spoke. “I’d just like to get something to eat and clean up. Plus you keep saying we need to get more distance between us and Vought.”

Butcher put a hand on either side of the dresser and leaned close enough that he could smell the tobacco odor that clung to each strand of her hair. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. Do you hear me?” he added when she remained silent. 

Olivia nodded, not trusting her voice. 

“Do you find me so repulsive love?” he whispered. 

Olivia couldn’t find her words as he paused, “answer me,” he murmured. “Do I disgust you?” he added raggedly.

She shook her head. “No,” she said softly and trailed off into silence, returning her attention to a spot on the wall over his broad shoulder. 

“No, what?”

“I’ve never gotten so close to someone so fast, it’s so much,” she stammered as felt her blush return and fill her face grow hot from the tips of her ears to the curve of her chin as he pressed himself against her. She could feel him growing hard against the front of her body. 

“Speak carefully,” Butcher thought as he considered his words and reveled in the electric trembling that was racing throughout her body.

“Is that scaring you?” he managed as he struggled to keep his tone even. 

Olivia nodded and tried to keep her breathing under control as Butcher smoothed an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

Butcher began tugging at her clothes when she closed her small hands around his wrists. “How many people have you killed?”

He ignored her question and shook her hands free so he could resume unbuttoning her shirt. 

“How many?” she repeated breathlessly.

“Several,” he growled as he gave up on the buttons and ripped her shirt open. 

“Are you just going to do whatever you want?” she managed before he wrapped her up in his formidable embrace before she found herself underneath him on the firm mattress.

“I want to fuck my soon-to-be-wife, my forever bird,” Butcher said on a strangled groan as he dropped a hand to the zippered closure of his pants and fumbled with the top button. 

“We didn’t talk about that,” she stammered and felt her eyes widen in shock at his words.

“Let’s talk now,” he growled as he forced her thighs further apart until he could insinuate himself closer to her wet, tight center. 

“That’s not fair,” Olivia managed as Butcher licked his finger and teased her clit until she was pressing her pelvis against him. 

“What’s not?” he whispered as he licked a wet line up her neck, feeling her rapidly beating carotid pulse under his tongue. 

Olivia wasn’t able to answer as her sudden orgasm overtook her and would’ve made her knees shaky if she’d been standing. Butcher smiled against her neck as he slid a couple fingers into her wet pussy and felt her tightness spasm around him. 

“You said you’d travel and live with me,” he murmured as he resumed painfully slow circles around her swollen and oversensitive clit. 

“Yes,” she gasped and felt sweat spring to the flushed skin of her forehead. 

“I want you to be all mine, my wife,” he whispered raggedly as he slipped a hand between them and freed his rapidly hardening cock. 

“Marry me,” Butcher growled as he plunged himself inside her. Olivia cried out as he was suddenly filling and stretching her wet, sensitive femininity.

She couldn’t find her breath let alone her words as Butcher thrust himself as deep as he could, continuing at a growing rhythm, their intimate flesh wetly kissing. 

Butcher shifted and captured her wrists and pushed them back to the surface of the bed, never losing his steady pace as she met his eyes. “Marry me,” he growled and made her gasp as he thrust deeply. 

“What’s the alternative?” she asked herself as he made her body feel alive.

“Yes,” she breathlessly managed.

Butcher felt her thighs begin to shake as the head of his cock brushed a sensitive spot inside her. 

“Yes?” he groaned before he dropped his head to the curve of her shoulder and clenched his eyes shut as he came inside her. 

Olivia felt tight coil of pleasure rip through her. The force made her tighten her thighs around his waist and thrust her pelvis against his cock that was still throbbing, buried deep inside her. 

“Yes,” she managed and sagged underneath him until he pulled his softened cock from her wet center and settled on the bed behind her. 

Her stomach growled even louder than before and soon an involuntary shout fell from her lips when Butcher yanked her on to her back and pressed his lips to hers and kissed her until she was breathless.


	9. Pretend I'm Someone Else

Butcher tucked the bedlinen around Olivia after she fell into a deep nap before he got behind the wheel and soon had them moving further north. As he moved the large vehicle to the second lane and continued briskly with the flow of traffic, back at the Vought building, Dr. Craig Dalton limped through the stacked parking garage to his convertible. 

He sighed heavily as he settled behind the wheel, he met his reflection in the rearview mirror. He felt tears of shame tease the corners of his eyes. Craig took a deep breath and stopped at a liquor store on his way home. 

He got back in the car and took a long swallow of the cheap vodka, breaking his ten-year sobriety in just a few seconds. 

Craig didn’t know Stormfront had been following him since he left the Vought building. 

Dr. Craig Dalton, valedictorian of his Ivy League school nearly shit his designer slacks when he walked into his living room and found Stormfront completely nude perched on his suede sofa. 

“Hello again Dr. Dalton,” Stormfront purred. 

As Craig was certain his heart had actually stopped beating, back in the moving RV Olivia continued to nap. Butcher adjusted the volume of the radio, anxious for any updated word on the safe house explosion and status and identification of the survivors. 

Butcher slowed as a highway patrol officer moved through traffic. Butcher’s lips pulled into a crooked smile as he plucked one of Olivia’s shed hairs from the seat and wrapped it around his left hand’s ring finger. 

He looked over his shoulder at her sleeping form. He wanted to let his gaze linger on her peaceful, sleeping face but knew he had to watch the traffic as he approached the offramp he wanted to take.

As Olivia slept, she remained blissfully unaware of Butcher making a quick stop at a strip-mall. Spontaneity driving his every move and dollar spent before he had the RV back on the interstate, continuing north. 

As Butcher passed a slow-moving SUV and Olivia slept soundly, back in Dr. Craig Dalton’s professionally decorated two-story home, Stormfront leaned back on the sofa and spread her legs wide.

Craig swallowed hard and took a few more gulps off the bottle, anxious for the numbing effect of the alcohol to overtake him as Stormfront licked her fingertips and began to rub slow circles on her clit. 

Craig watched, his cock couldn’t help but grow hard as she plunged a few fingers into her wet cunt, her pink tightness clutching at her slim, pale fingers. 

“Come here Dr. Dalton,” Stormfront purred.

Craig drained the bottle and nodded dumbly as he fumbled at the front of his slacks and freed his hardening cock. 

Stormfront smiled in slow satisfaction and held her thighs further apart until her pink pussy yawned open at him.

“Fuck me Dr. Dalton, pretend I’m Olivia,” she growled and spread her thighs as far as she could. 

“Come on Craig, show me how you’d fuck your Olivia,” she teased and thrust her hips towards him, her cunt open and begging. 

Craig felt hot bile rise up his throat but was led by his throbbing cock to bury himself in one fluid plunge into her wet cunt. He pounded his hips with erratic urgency, a low keening sound coming from him as he clutched Stormfront’s fleshy hips as he buried himself into her well-used cunt. 

Hours later, Dr. Dalton slept face down on his Persian rug with all the alcohol on board and Butcher pulled the RV to a stop at a rundown campground. 

Butcher settled on the edge of the mattress next to Olivia and brushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She stirred awake as he traced his thumb over her lower lip.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured as she covered her mouth when a deep series of yawns overtook her. 

“A little better,” she said honestly and sat up in the bed and leaned against the headboard. “Where are we?” Olivia asked as she tucked the linen around herself. 

“We’re about a day’s drive away from the border.”

“The border? How can you cross the border? I don’t even have my ID.”

Butcher pressed his lips to hers, cutting off her words. “I have it taken care of love,” he murmured.

Olivia opened her mouth to ask another question before he abruptly yanked her into his embrace, crushing his mouth to hers. “Don’t concern yourself with it,” he growled as he briefly lifted his lips. 

He reluctantly broke his hold on her and smoothed the linen across the tops of her thighs. “I picked up some steaks for the grill, there’s hot water if you want to clean up while I start cooking,” Butcher said softly and had to clench his hands into fists to keep from stripping her bare and fucking her until she couldn’t breathe. 

Olivia nodded as he gave her just enough room to move past him.

Butcher’s breath caught in surprise when she paused before she rose from the bed. Olivia tentatively raised her hand and cupped his jaw, his beard tickling her palm.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Butcher met her eyes, wordless until she elaborated. “Thank you for not killing me.”

Butcher closed a large hand around her wrist and pressed his lips to her palm. 

“How do you like your steak love?”

As Olivia cleaned up and scrubbed her scalp until it tingled, Butcher threw the T-bones on the grill and set out a couple paper plates and some packaged deli sides. 

He slipped the magazine with the unfinished quiz under her plate. 

The smell of grilled meat reached Olivia’s nose as she emerged from the small shower stall and found Butcher pulling the steaks off the metal grate.

“That smells amazing,” she said, meaning it, her stomach audibly agreeing. 

They ate in peace for a while before Butcher gestured at the magazine, “why don’t you ask the next question.”

She fought to roll her eyes but opened the page he had marked and cleared her throat before she began to read from the page. 

“What would be your ideal date night? A. Rose petals on the staircase, champagne, chocolate, strawberries, and hours of pleasure. B. Party drugs, pizza, clubs, animal sex, an epic hangover and endless wasted selfies and dick pics. C. Recreate your first date but with a mutual happy-ending guaranteed. D. I’ll just take the drugs and eat pizza as I binge-watch tv.”

They both stayed silent when she had finished reading. “Well?” she asked, “which one?”

“I would’ve said C if our meeting hadn’t been so unconventional,” he finally said.

Olivia smiled, “we could always start over with coffee and go from there.”

Butcher nodded, “is a revised C also your choice?”

“I like A more,” she said and stared out at the emptiness around them.

Butcher smiled, “we’ll have to stop at the store again soon, they’ll have everything necessary.”

Olivia stared down at her lap and didn’t see his pupils dilate, nostrils flare, neck flush or how he caught his tongue between his teeth as she avoided his eyes.

“Talk to me love,” he growled and captured her hand with his, squeezing urgently until she raised her eyes and met his. 

“I’ve just never been so….quick to touch, kiss, I never imagined getting so close to someone so fast,” she started and continued when he stayed quiet.

As Butcher cut through a piece of the barbecued steak and speared it onto a plastic fork, he watched her eyes moving back over the previous quiz questions.

He didn’t taste anything he chewed or drank. All he could think about was the next time he would be inside of her, filling her, possessing her, completely obsessed with the idea that no one had touched her in that way before. 

“You know you never answered the quiz question earlier,” Butcher said as she loaded a plastic spoon with the deli-style macaroni salad.

Olivia paused and looked across at him, holding her full spoon aloft. 

“What was the question?” she managed.

“More or less, where you like to be touched and kissed,” he said as he cut his steak into several more manageable pieces, never dropping his eyes from hers as he continued easily. “The choices were neck, breasts, belly or lips, I said lips.”

Olivia pressed her lips together and tried to not blink under the weight of his stare.

“What’s your choice or do I have to guess?” he growled when she remained resolutely still and silent.

Butcher’s lips pulled into a dangerous smile when she finally spoke in a low whisper.

“My neck.”

He pushed his plate away and walked around the weathered picnic table to stand behind her. Butcher leaned down and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

“So soft,” he murmured as he moved his lips in a slow trail up the side of her neck, his exhale hot against her ear. 

Olivia found her body speaking for her as she let him pull her to her feet until he could wrap her up in his formidable embrace. 

“I can’t control myself around you,” Butcher growled and forced a startled cry from Olivia as he lifted her completely off her feet and was ripping her clothes free as he carried her back into the RV.

Butcher licked a hot line up her neck as she struggled to find her breath. 

“That’s better,” Butcher groaned as he danced the fingertips of one hand along the scalloped lace edge of her satin panties before he yanked them away from her tight, wet center and abruptly plunged himself inside her. 

Olivia found that catching her breath was just out of reach as he teased the rough tip of his index finger in small circles around her clit. Butcher grunted as her body undulated underneath him and he brought her closer to falling into the precipice of pleasure.

Butcher lowered his lips to her ear and whispered as she felt a growing heaviness developing in her lower body. He never stopped his movement against the swelling knot of flesh under his fingertips as he spoke. “Let me take care of you.”


	10. Starlight, Star Bright, First Star I Fuck Tonight

As Butcher lost himself in her, every one of his senses teased to a fever pitch, hours, and away hours at the modified safehouse that The Female and Starlight huddled in, both women collectively screamed as Homelander and Stormfront began an electrical and firestorm assault on them. 

Eventually Stormfront and Homelander paused long enough for Starlight and The Female to slowly emerge from the burning carnage with their hands high above their head. 

Stormfront smirked as she raised a tranquillizer gun and shot a potent drug into The Female’s neck. The drug poured into her bloodstream and made her tumble to the ground.

Starlight hovered next to the fallen Female until Homelander landed soundlessly behind her and threw her halfway across the adjacent field.

Homelander returned to The Female and was gathering up her unconscious form when Stormfront landed softly beside him.

“What are you doing?”

Homelander couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice. “I’m taking her to Vought, what are you doing?”

Stormfront smiled slowly and bit her tongue between her straight, white teeth. 

“Why don’t you let me take this one and you can take your time questioning that one?” Stormfront asked as she slid a hand up the inside of his thigh and gave his balls a squint-worthy squeeze. 

“Really?” Homelander asked and looked around even though he knew they were alone. 

Stormfront could hear the brimming excitement in his voice as she gathered The Female from his arms. 

“Take your time baby,” she murmured and pressed her lips to his with crushing urgency, her tongue seeking his, fucking his lips with her franticness. 

Homelander blew out a hard breath as Stormfront flew away towards Vought with The Female. 

He reached a hand down and adjusted his hardening cock as he turned his attention towards Starlight as she struggled to her feet. 

Homelander smiled broadly as he manipulated the air and knocked her back onto the unforgiving ground. 

He walked casually towards Starlight as he shook his finger at her. “Bad girl Annie, you were aiding and abetting criminals and who knows what kind of sensitive information you gave them.”

Starlight reflexively held up a hand when Homelander leaned impossibly close.

His smile widened as he captured her hand and snapped her small finger until it was at an opposite angle of what it should be.

“I am within my rights to kill you,” Homelander said as he watched Starlight cry on the ground as she clutched her damaged hand to her chest. 

“Then do it,” she spit between tears of pain. “Just stop fucking talking, all you do is talk.”

Homelander felt a surge of anger, he was positively pyroclastic as he spoke carefully.

“I might still, or I might take you to Vought like that silent bitch. Whatever I decide is after we’re done here.”

“After what?” she mewled in confusion.

“After I found out why that skinny kid was willing to risk his life for your magical cunt.”

“You’re just mad that no one will willingly have sex with you,” Starlight spit as Homelander’s hands moved with ferocious speed and ripped enough of her clothes free that he could squeeze the soft flesh of her breasts, teasing the dark pink skin of her nipples with the pads of his thumbs until they were stiff peaks, the breeze making them tingle. 

“Maybe,” he murmured before he shoved a few of his finger into her mouth as he added. “Let’s use this mouth for something more productive,” he groaned as he slid his fingers against the soft skin on the inside of her cheek and around her tongue as he dropped his free hand to free his cock that had grown painfully hard. 

“That’s better,” he groaned as he pulled his dripping wet fingers from her mouth and slipped them inside her wet, tight center. Homelander began to stoke his cock in time with shallowly fucking her pink hole with his fingers. 

“Will you shine for me Starlight if I keep doing this?” he groaned in an all-masculine tone that made her blush despite her pain and anger. 

Homelander felt a jolt race through him as he had the answer in the space of her silence and drop of her gaze. 

He made her gasp as he began moving his thumb in a slow path through the shell pink lips of her slit until he could tease her clit to a level of sensitivity that was equal to that of a tectonic plate. 

“Shine for me little star,” he demanded as he shifted and suddenly plunged himself inside her until he could go no further. 

Starlight shouted for no one besides him to hear as he began to thrust with erratic urgency and increased the steady circle around her pleasure center. He could feel the walls of her pussy tighten and pulse around him as he filled her. 

“Shine,” he growled and slammed himself inside her. He saw her expression as she tried to suppress her rush of pleasure. 

Homelander grabbed her chin when she squeezed her eyes shut. “Open your eyes,” he hissed as he felt her try to stop from tightening her thighs around his waist.

“You’re my Starlight now,” he said with a heavy chuckle as he made her orgasm hard while he was still buried inside her. 

“No,” she tried to say as tears fell freely from her glowing eyes.

Homelander nodded as he kept the pressure on her clit steady and kept her cunt tightening around him as her central nervous danced itself to a pleasurable death. 

“I’m not taking you to Vought right away,” he groaned as he filled her with a healthy dump of sweet, sticky sperm, each shift and thrust keeping her eyes two bright beacons. “I’m going to keep you around for a while, my private light,” he added as he dropped his head to the curve of her neck.

“Or I can melt your face now,” he said emptily as he lifted his face, his own eyes glowing red.

“Do it,” she spit and blinked up at him, painfully aware his cock was still firmly planted inside her, stretching to accommodate him. 

Starlight held her breath as Homelander made a small sound as he pulled his softening cock out of her center and leaned back on her heels. 

She gave a startled shout as he put a hand on each smooth inner thigh and pushed her legs as far apart as her body allowed. 

Homelander let his eyes trace over her smooth skin, soft breasts, and flat plain of her belly. He pressed his lips together as he smoothed one hand to her exposed and vulnerable cunt. 

Starlight started to squirm as he pushed apart her puffy pussy lips, the pink wet flesh smooth and slick under his fingertips. He felt residual aftershocks ring in the head of his cock as her wet, tight hole leaked his sticky, sweet seed. 

“No, I think I’ll keep you around a while,” he murmured as he pushed his still hot sticky come into her pussy. Starlight fought to keep sounds from falling from between her lips as he continued to tease her aching hole by sliding his inside finger in and out shallowly. 

Starlight’s voice was lost when Homelander shifted and was suddenly half on top of her, his fingertips now smoothing around her sensitive clit. 

He closed a hand around her slim throat as he began to work his fingers with the speed of the pink vibrator she had hidden under her bed. 

Homelander lowered his lips to her ear and let her have just enough air as he made her pelvis thrust and her cunt gasp at the empty air, wanting to be drilled, hard. 

“I know you must shine brighter than that,” he murmured as he trapped her lower body to prevent her from squirming away. 

Starlight cried out in pain, embarrassment, and shame as he forced her to have a core-melting orgasm.

Her eyes widened, the fringe of lashes curled away as beams of fiery light shot from her eyes and burned through the high branch of a majestic redwood tree. 

“That’s better my little star,” Homelander whispered as he slid his fingertips that were wet with her pussy juices down to tease at her tight rear entrance.

He whispered as he simultaneously plunged an identical tranquilizer dart into her neck. “Can I make your eyes glow by fucking your ass my little star?”

As Starlight succumbed to the strong drug that depressed her consciousness, hours, and hours away, Butcher settled the shiny RV in the third lane as Olivia adjusted the heater vent to warm her cold feet. 

“Where are we driving to exactly?” she asked as various road signs indicated a wealth of tourist spots and cities for off-ramps that they passed.

She looked over when Butcher remained wordless and passed a slow moving Peterbilt to move into the quicker moving second lane. 

“Well?”

“Well what love?” he asked and winked at her, sparing her a crooked smile.

“Where are we going?” she annunciated slowly. 

“Over the border,” he said easily.

“I know that but where, please tell me something?” Olivia asked and tried to keep the begging tone from her voice. 

Butcher looked over and reached out a hand to rest on top of her thigh. “There’s a small city where I’ve leased a farmhouse and a couple acres. You can garden, hike or do nothing at all,” he whispered as he squeezed gently with each spoken word. 

Olivia looked down at his hand before she tentatively settled her left hand on top of his. 

“What about jobs? Income? Property taxes?” she startled to babble before Butcher began squeezing her thigh urgently as he shushed her.

“None of that is your concern.”

“But how?” she asked as she added quickly. “How can I not think about stuff like the water and electric bill. What am I supposed to do?”

“There is only one thing you have to do now and every day after,” Butcher growled and dropped his tone to that of subterranean, bleak danger.

“What?” she asked as her forehead pulled into a deep frown. 

“Be my wife and share my bed, home and life.”

Olivia licked her lips, “oh,” she said lamely and looked out the side window as a sheriff’s car flew by them after a speeding bright blue Italian sportscar. 

Butcher smiled and watched her suppress a nervous shudder as he slid his fingers further up the inside of her thigh. 

He lifted his hand and pulled his heavy jacket from the floor between the seats. 

“Put this on love,” he murmured as he moved the vehicle back to the third lane when a car crawled up his tailpipe with him already traveling more than twenty miles over the posted speed limit. 

Olivia smiled her thanks and slipped into his oversized, well-worn coat. She slipped her hand into one of the inside pockets and pulled out his battered tri-folded wallet. She thumbed through the very few items in the leather slots and pulled his license free. 

“William,” she read aloud from the plastic card. 

Butcher’s hands squeezed reflexively around the wheel at the sound of his name on her lips. He clenched his teeth until his jaw popped as he strongly debated pulling the RV over, flicking on the hazard lights and making her say his name every time he buried his aching cock deep inside of her. 

He grunted an incoherent sound of agreement and nervously fiddled with the heater vent switches, fighting the urge to beg her to say his name again. 

“William?” Olivia repeated with a questioning tone this time. 

He looked over and met her eyes briefly before she continued. 

“Are we going to be safe? Can you actually drive far enough away from the reach of Vought and Homelander?”

Butcher considered her question and how to answer.

Of course they could never truly know if they were safe from Vought’s reach. Butcher and Olivia could have no way of knowing how far Vought had its fingers into the molten core of the planet.

Butcher took the next exit and drove down a few frontage roads that paralleled the interstate until he could settle into a robust line for a popular chain coffee house.

Olivia was glad to see the holiday beverage cups and eager to order the peppermint mocha as Butcher finally spoke. 

“I will do everything within my power to keep you safe and away from Vought and off all of those fucking Supe’s radar.”

Olivia looked down at her lap as he ordered their hot drinks and waited to speak until he was able to move the RV half a vehicle length further in the long line. 

“I’m sorry your friends died because of me,” she whispered in the barest of audible breaths. 

Butcher was quiet as he steered the RV around the sharp curve past the squawking ordering box and paid with some crumbled bills and a handful of change he had pulled from the pristine ash tray. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said as the drive-thru window closed briefly, and the bottle-blonde psych student bustled around finishing their drinks and slipping cardboard sleeves on the holiday paper cups. 

Olivia continued to stare at her lap until she lifted her hand and accepted the delectable mocha from him. Their fingertips brushed and sparks were nearly visible as their skin kissed.

“It’s not your fault,” he said in a deeper tone, his words formed deep in the base of his lungs and wrapped their honest comfort around her on his hot exhale.


	11. Wait Your Turn

As Butcher pressed the accelerator to the floor and merged onto the highway, hours, and hours away, Dr. Craig Dalton stirred awake in the tangled sheets of his king-sized bed 

Craig held his breath before he opened his eyes, straining his ears for any sound of Stormfront. 

He blew out a shaky breath and crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. His body was sore from where Stormfront had spent hours using him in ways he’d never even fantasized about.

He groaned as a spike of pain shot through his rectum and he flushed with shame as he remembered Stormfront’s invading fingers and blunt objects as she made him come repeatedly until he cried.

As Craig ran a warm bath and added nearly half a box of soothing eucalyptus salts to the water, back in the Vought building Homelander and Stormfront were leaned close together as they reviewed the hacked email account of Dr. Olivia Phillips. 

The pair of Supes spent time reading every message she had ever composed in search of talk about company sedition. They whispered to themselves as they read every social media post from benign bagel breakfast posts and countless likes of cat and dog photos.

Vought was anxious to blame the explosions and violence around the city on domestic terrorism and capitalize on their fearmongering by hyping Homelander as a potential presidential candidate with his hardline stance on crime and the protection of the country. 

Butcher had a rap sheet that was easy enough to run through the news spin cycle and turn him into one of the top ten most wanted. Vought was desperate to either vilify or canonize Olivia.

Homelander and Stormfront scrutinized every character Olivia had ever typed while in two transparent, lead-lined, and electrified cells, The Female and Starlight each waited for whatever Vought had in mind for the two rogue Supes. 

As the two women were forced to wait in isolation, hours in the opposite direction, Billy kept glancing over at Olivia as she stared out the side window. With her face mostly turned away, he couldn’t see her expression.

“Are ya warm enough?” he finally asked when double-digit miles passed without her saying anything.

Butcher was relieved when she looked over as her lips pulled into a half-smile. “Yes, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.”

Olivia reached for the dial to increase the volume of the radio when Butcher closed his hand around hers. 

“What were you lost thinking about love?” he asked, wishing he didn’t have to keep his eyes on the road. 

Olivia shook her head, “nothing worth mentioning.”

“Tell me,” he demanded and squeezed her hand harder. 

Before Olivia could deflect his demand and tightening grip, the anchor for the popular nationwide news station began discussing the domestic terrorism that had occurred on American soil. 

Butcher released Olivia’s hand as the anchor went on to describe the two suspects William Butcher and Dr. Olivia Phillips, a disgruntled Vought employee who was selling secrets to a foreign government. 

Butcher pressed the button that turned off the radio as Olivia remained wordless, the news anchor description of herself seared into the front of her mind. 

“How…how can you be sure that we’re going to be safe now? Fucking terrorists? Vought has eyes everywhere and ties to so many more companies than the IMF is even aware.”

Butcher quickly moved over two lanes and took the next exit as her voice rose in pitch. He navigated the bulky vehicle to the rear of a strip mall shopping center and set the parking brake before speaking. 

“We got out of town while those fucking Supe’s were having their fun, we’ll make a new life for ourselves,” he started before Olivia interrupted him.

“Homelander will never let this rest, he’s probably taking it as a personal fucking slight. He’ll never stop looking,” she insisted. 

Butcher unbuckled his seat belt and hers simultaneously before yanking her awkwardly into his formidable embrace and stopping her flow of words with the rough press of his lips against hers. 

“I’m going to go pick up a cheap phone,” he mumbled when he lifted her lips. “I’ll secure us new identities, passports and a fucking deed to the house in a couple days.”

Olivia blinked at him, never really quite grasping the concept of acquiring new identities and documents. It seemed too reserved to that of the cinematic world. 

Butcher watched Olivia’s face as she tried to corral her emotions. She dropped her eyes from him as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. He felt a fracture of self as he watched the hot, bloated tears run down her cheeks as new, uncomfortable feelings tied his intestines into a tight, double-knot. 

Butcher brushed the rough pads of his thumbs along the wet line of her tears as he wracked his brain for how to soothe her fear.

“How can I stop your tears?” he groaned as his eyes fell to her full lips and down to where her chest was rapidly rising and falling as she tried to control her breathing. 

Olivia raised her eyes to meet his and lifted her hands to grasp his wrists. “Swear that we’ll be safe, that I don’t have to be afraid the rest of my life.” 

As Butcher thought carefully before he put his words together, back at the Vought building, Stormfront and Homelander congratulated each other after one of Stormfront’s techie fuck boys manipulated some images of Olivia to look like she supported controversial national hotspots. 

After the large room was cleared and it was just Stormfront, Homelander and the locked-up Starlight and The Female, Stormfront reached a hand down to grip Homelander’s balls hard through his suit. “Do you want to have some fun?” she whispered as her eyes glittered dangerously. 

“What did you have in mind?” he practically panted as Stormfront squeezed rhythmically as she spoke. 

“Let’s see if we can make that bitch talk,” she murmured and looked over at the clear cell where The Female was crouched in the corner. 

Homelander’s smile widened as Stormfront kept massaging his balls as she typed a few commands into the individual cell security system.

The Female’s cell door opened and before she could even think about launching an offensive, Stormfront extended her hands and held The Female in a paralyzing and painful electrical storm as she moved her through the air in Homelander’s direction. 

Stormfront stopped the electrical onslaught as Homelander’s eyes burned red and he moved The Female back in Stormfront’s direction. 

Annie leapt to her feet and pounded her fists on the tempered glass, the soundproof cell kept all the noise contained.

Stormfront looked over and locked eyes through the clear glass with Starlight as she ripped one of The Female’s arms off and hurled her bleeding body back towards Homelander who disarticulated her thigh bone from where it was firmly seated in her hip socket.

The Female remained silent as her femoral artery was torn and her hot, gushing blood decorated the walls like a newly discovered, still wet to the touch, Jackson Pollack painting. 

“Wait your turn little Star,” Stormfront said through clenched teeth as her and Homelander finished quartering The Female until she was a mute William Wallace. 

Stormfront and Homelander shoved each torn off limb into large plastic bags before Homelander ripped The Female’s head cleanly free from her neck, the last of her blood volume spilling out into the tiled floor as Annie crumbled to the ground within her small cell. 

Annie scrambled backwards as Stormfront typed the same characters on the keyboard and her cell door sprang open. 

As Stormfront lifted her hands and purple electrical fingers reached for Starlight, back in the strip mall parking lot, Butcher leaned closer to Olivia, her breath coming slower as he whispered against her ear. 

The strands of her hair tickled his nose as his warm exhale washed over the soft lobe of her ear.

“Close your eyes,” he rasped and moved back until she reluctantly complied. 

Olivia held her breath as she heard Butcher fumbling in the glove compartment before she felt him envelope her left hand in his warm grip.

Olivia gasped as her eyes flew open when she felt him slipping the platinum band around her ring finger. 

She looked down at the diamonds encrusted in the band, encircling the pear-shaped center stone.

Butcher lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the sparkling ring.

As Olivia’s mouth went bone-dry and she searched for her words, back at the towering Vought building, Stormfront pulled Starlight forcefully from her cell and across the room. She landed on a long table where Homelander was waiting to pounce on top of her. 

Annie’s breath left her lungs as Homelander pinned her to the table as he tisked lightly and slapped her until the little star saw actual stars. 

As her vision cleared, Stormfront crossed the room and stood at the head of the table until she could smooth Annie’s tangled hair away from her face, her touch so gentle. One heartbeat later, Stormfront’s hands held open Annie’s mouth as Homelander freed his hardening cock from the confines of his tight suit.

Stormfront smiled up at Homelander as he stroked himself to painful hardness before shifting until he could plunge his cock down Annie’s throat.

Homelander grunted as he jabbed the head of his cock into the wet walls of her throat, her chocking and gagging serving as an extra aphrodisiac. 

Stormfront felt her own cunt flood with wetness as Annie’s choked cries filled the room. She adjusted her grip and let one hand unzip her suit, her creamy white breasts spilling forth as she traced a couple fingers down to tease her clit. 

Stormfront looked up at Homelander as he brutally fucked Starlight’s throat as she moved her fingers in small, rapid circles around her oversensitive clit. 

Homelander’s breathing took on a ragged edge and Stormfront urgently cried out as she increased the rhythm of her fingers up and down her wet slit. 

“Don’t come in that bitch, end her and fuck me,” Stormfront demanded as she pulled her suit away to expose more of her cunt before plunging her fingers deep inside her tight, wet center. 

Homelander grinned and let his full weight fall forward, his cock filling Starlight’s throat, completely cutting off her ability to breathe. 

Stormfront teased herself closer to orgasmic precipice as Starlight asphyxiated to death.

Once Annie’s heart stopped, Homelander pulled his cock from her slack mouth, spit, mucus, and bile dripping from his shaft. 

Stormfront laid back on the floor and held open her thighs as far as she could and spread open her wet cunt lips with one pale hand. 

“Fuck me,” she demanded as Homelander buried his cock to the hilt until their intimate flesh kissed as she groaned wantonly, thrusting her hips up to meet his. 

“You’re a hero,” Stormfront shouted loudly as her cunt sucked at his plunging cock. 

“You’re going to rule this country and then the world,” she purred and squeezed her thighs around his waist. 

Homelander groaned as the walls of her innermost femininity tightened around his invading cock. “You’ll be at my side,” grunted as he yanked his cock free of her wet hole and roughly flipped her over. 

He shoved his fingers briefly in her soaking wet pussy until he could slide the dripping fingers into her tight rear entrance.

“At your side,” Stormfront agreed and pushed her hips back to meet him. He needed no encouragement to plunge his cock up her ass until the supple flesh of her bottom stopped him from sinking further. 

Homelander yanked Stormfront’s head back until her neck stretched into a taut line as he filled her tight ass with a veritable bucket of sticky, hot come.

“At my side,” he repeated and slumped over her, the light sheen of sweat drying on their exposed skin.


	12. Fuck Me to Death

As Stormfront and Homelander cleaned up the mess in the Vought building, hours and hours in the opposite direction, Butcher was certain his heart might stop as he waited in the silent void for Olivia to speak.

Olivia’s pea-sized pituitary ejaculated hormones that simultaneously stimulated all her glands from the base of her brain to her ovaries as she tried to compose the simplest of sentences.

In a moment composed completely in biocentrism, Olivia felt herself nodding, at first a barely perceptible dip of her chin before Butcher could feel something uncoil inside as he wrapped her up in the overwhelming strength of his embrace. 

As Butcher’s lust began to replicate at an explosive amount and he was torn between fucking her in the parking lot before or after a quick shopping trip, hours, and hours away in his penthouse apartment, Dr. Craig Dalton hissed with pain as he took a lukewarm shower. The spray of water sent pricks of pain through his raw and sore skin where Stormfront used him as a blowup fuck doll. 

Craig scrubbed his face until the soap bubbles stung his eyes.

He couldn’t help but let out a shriek that could’ve rivaled a big-titted college girl running from a masked maniac waving a chainsaw in the eighth installment of a horror movie when Stormfront’s voice called from the doorway of the spacious bathroom. 

“Good evening Dr. Dalton,” Stormfront purred.

Craig turned the water off and cowered in the tile corner. “What more do you want? I’ve told you everything I know, everything,” he babbled when Stormfront ripped open the shower door. 

“I just want to visit a bit doctor, that’s all,” Stormfront murmured as she dragged her eyes lavisciously over his cowering, wet body. 

Craig blinked up at the Supe, her hard, strong body looking like it was dipped with latex. The suit clinging to her skin so tight that the blood flow to every muscle was visible. 

Stormfront smiled sweetly and tossed a pile of clothes on the floor that she had plucked from his mahogany dresser. “Get dressed, I have something I want to show you.”

Craig hastily pulled his clothes on over his damp skin, Stormfront waited on the balcony, the brisk night air kissing her skin as she waited. 

Before Craig left the bathroom, he rooted through the medicine cabinet for anything that could be a weapon. He blew out a nervous breath and sorted through the cabinet under the sink until he could find the zippered shaving kit that had belonged to his father. 

“Where is it? Where is it?” he whispered frantically and was able to take a relieved breath when he found the bag and soon had his hands on his straight shaving razor. 

Craig tucked the folded blade in his pocket before joining Stormfront on his penthouse’s balcony. “Come with me Craig,” she said and held out her hand towards him.

“Where are we going?” Craig asked feebly, cringing at how frightened he sounded. 

“It’s a surprise Craig, come on now,” she repeated as her smile became more toothy and slightly sinister. 

Craig felt rooted in place as he stared at Stormfront’s outstretched hand. 

Before Craig could process, Stormfront swept him up in her arms. She was soon holding him like a bride she was about to carry over the threshold. “Hold on doctor,” she whispered into Craig’s ear before flicking her tongue against the soft, pale lobe.

Craig shouted in shock as Stormfront rose into the air with him and soon found himself flying through the sky rises and over a famous bridge that had been used in several big budget films. 

As Stormfront held Craig close to her chest, continuing to fly through the sky, back in the mall parking lot, Butcher felt his lust begin to implode as he started fumbling with her clothes. 

“Don’t we need to leave?” Olivia managed as Butcher’s hands yanked at her pants. 

Butcher chuckled as his eyes bled black with want, “it won’t take that long to make a difference.”

Butcher stayed true to his word and finished as fast as a horny teenager, shopped, and soon had the vehicle devouring the miles under the heavy tires. 

As Butcher continued taking Olivia further away from Vought, hours away Stormfront landed with Craig on a Southwestern decorated balcony and gave him a dazzling smile. 

Craig hugged his arms around himself as Stormfront pulled the sliding glass door free.

He followed her through some beige linen curtains and looked around at the Tuscan sand painted walls. 

“What do you think Craig? When I deliver your doctor Olivia to you, do you want to live here or at your house?” Stormfront called from the cozy kitchen.

“This is…. this is Olivia’s place?”

Stromfront nodded, “mmmmm hmmmmmm, and it will belong to you too when she marries you and you finally get to fuck her,” she added.

Craig looked around, confused, and scared but also still very interested in what was in Olivia’s panty drawer.

“How do you think she’d even think about marrying me?” Craig scoffed. Any further words died in his throat as Stormfront was suddenly in front of him. 

“That little bitch will marry you and whatever else I dictate, or she’ll be charged and executed as a domestic terrorist.”

Craig swallowed hard, “so what do you want from me? Why am I here?”

Stormfront pointed at Olivia’s computer. “Access her files and Vought information and download what I need onto this,” she said and plugged a rectangular flash drive into the side of the keyboard. 

“Very good doctor,” Stormfront murmured after the last of the documents were transferred. “Let’s go look at her bedroom,” she purred as she pulled Craig into the   
large bedroom with its vaulted ceilings. 

Stormfront pushed Craig to the surface of the made bed, the plush pillowtop absorbing any impact.

Craig would never be able to make another coherent sound as Stormfront shot out her right fist and crushed his jaw. 

She pulled open the crotch of her outfit and yanked his pants free as she practically broke a sweat making his cock hard enough for any kind of ride. The three-thousand thread bedlinen absorbed Craig’s warm flow of arterial blood as Stormfront milked his almost hard cock. She cursed in her foreign tongue as she longed to   
feel like she was splitting in two. 

Stormfront crawled off Craig and dialed Homelander as Craig choked on a throatful of blood. 

While Stormfront’s call connected to Homelander in the Vought building, it rang as he tossed the last of The Female’s individual limbs through an incinerator until he could scoop the remains into small jars that might’ve been called canopic jars if he were telling the story with hieroglyphics. 

Homelander listened and swore his cock sprang to life and thumped against his suit’s shield as he left cleanup to whatever nearby scientist.

Homelander was soon in Olivia’s bedroom, the heady scent of blood in the air a further aphrodisiac as he found a dying Craig and naked Stormfront. 

“I missed you baby,” she purred as she sat down on the side of the bed and spread her naked thighs as wide as she could manage.

Homelander began to tug out of his suit as he stalked towards her. 

“No one fills me like you, fuck me until it feels that true death is near,” she demanded on a moan as he deeply impaled her on his rigid cock. “Until death,” she shouted and drug her nails in deep lines across his muscular back.

Homelander couldn’t speak as she squeezed her thighs around him and met each of his thrusts so that their intimate flesh loudly and wetly kissed. 

After they each rode out their mutual orgasms, Stormfront called in one of her nerd herd fuck boys to take pictures and procure evidence from Olivia’s computer that she was a murderer and domestic terrorist. 

Stormfront had her favorite techie Stevie make sure every news outlet had the information created that painted Olivia as a disloyal patriot, terrorist, and murderer of beloved Vought scientist Craig Dalton. 

The news, crime photos and coroner’s report all stated that Craig Dalton ceased to live while lying in Olivia’s bed. 

As Butcher flicked the signal on the large vehicle and moved over to the fast lane, Olivia adjusted the radio until she could find a local radio station. 

The nasally voiced journalist began outlining the top stories. Olivia froze when she was the topic of the third highest trending news story. 

Butcher kept still and quiet as he listened along with her as she was described as a domestic terrorist with a controversial hidden manifesto and plans to bomb Vought. The journalist went on to describe that Olivia was also wanted for the murder of esteemed Vought scientist Craig Dalton whose body was found in her home.   
Butcher muted the station when the anchor began discussing him and his list of embellished crimes. He glanced over at Olivia who was staring down at her lap, her hands loosely clasped together. 

“Are you okay?” he finally murmured. 

Olivia wordlessly nodded and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sudden series of yawns. She rubbed her eyes before glancing over at him. “I think I’m going to lay down back there for a while,” she said as she slipped out of her seatbelt. 

Butcher nodded as she shuffled to the rear of the vehicle, grateful since she wouldn’t register on any possible facial recognition scans or civilian sightings. 

“Oi love,” he said as he kept his eyes on the road but drew her attention.

“Hmmm? She murmured as she looked back at him.

Butcher wordlessly held a hand towards her and waited patiently for her to slip her hand in his.

“What?” she murmured, her curiosity keeping her from falling asleep on her feet.

Butcher pulled her hand towards him and pressed her lips to the cool platinum band around her left ring finger. 

Butcher let her eventually tug her hand free and settle on the rear bench seat, pulling his thick worn jacket around herself. 

Butcher watched her settle from the rearview mirror, he hated that the visible bruises and discomfort was at his hands.

He clenched his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and pressed the accelerator the floor. 

Butcher felt himself fracturing inside, he could picture his core with a visible crack, it was widening to become a fissure and eventually a bottomless abyss.

He passed a slow-moving sedan with a Christmas tree tied to the top before he met his own eyes in the rearview mirror and chuckled. 

His old man had given him a pack of gum and carton of Parliaments to go fuck off with in the corner for Christmas.

Butcher glanced up as Olivia moaned in her sleep and shifted on the seat.

“That’s the kind of man you are,” he growled. “You hurt everything and everyone, you’re just like your father and will eventually kill every living thing you come in contact with.”

Butcher had to force himself to stop watching Olivia’s sleeping form in the mirror and fumbled with the first of a few disposable phone’s he’d picked up at the strip mall. 

As the hours passed, Olivia was able to get some needed, healing sleep and Butcher reached out to some acquaintances he’d made in seedy opium dens and black markets where one could purchase children, women or elephant tusks and powdered rhino horn.

The call’s connection was terrible, but Butcher was able to call in a marker and get the address for a safe house that was in good fiscal and financial status to even the deepest of a county audit. The caller recommended a better person to get identities from, the last had served some time and was now on several governmental agency watchlists.

As Butcher moved steadily through a laundry list of calls, his agitation continued to rise. He clenched his teeth until his jaw popped as he felt so unsure of how to navigate this neutered version of himself. 

The safe house was still too many miles to cover in one day and he started following the signs for an upcoming KOA campground.

He glanced up as Olivia coughed and rolled over onto her back, his jacket slipping away from her upper body.

Olivia’s shirt had shifted in the impromptu bed and his eyes zeroed in on the smooth skin around her belly button.

Butcher tore his gaze off of her as she started to mumble and sit up.

“Where are we?” she croaked as she stretched her arms high overhead.

Butcher looked up and met her sleepy eyes, “there’s a campground a few miles from here. It’s the off-season and shouldn’t be as busy.”

Olivia looked out the side window and rubbed the sleepy grit from the corners of her eyes as Butcher slowed the truck through the campground’s entrance and paid the site reservation fees with cash into a self-serve kiosk, the state saved money by not having to have someone posted at the gate in the off-season. 

The sprawling campgrounds were unusually vacant for the time of year and Butcher was able to secure a secluded spot.

He engaged the emergency brake and cut the engine. 

Olivia watched him slip from behind the wheel and walk to her side of the vehicle. Her fatigue impaired her depth perception. She nearly stumbled stepping into the open space and he quickly scooped her upright in his strong arms. 

He wrapped his arms tight around her and pulled her close as he smoothed his hands down to the curve of her lower back and began to knead his fingers up her spinal column. He lightly massaged the rounded knob of each vertebrate. 

“That feels nice,” she thought and almost said it out loud. Butcher felt a shiver run through her. “It’s going to get cold tonight,” he whispered against the crown of her head. “Rest. I’m going to set up camp,” he added and had to force himself to release and step away her.

Olivia let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when he stepped away from her. She watched him begin to unpack the truck. 

She yawned deeply and stretched her arms overhead as she watched Butcher begin to assemble the tent. Olivia pulled a vinyl bag from the truck bed and walked towards him. 

“How long are we staying here?”

Butcher half-turned to see her standing next to him, holding the vinyl bag that contained a plush, insulated sleeping bag. 

“A few days at minimum.”

“Is there another sleeping bag besides this one?”

He smoothed his hands over the olive-green canvas tent. “No.” 

Olivia dropped the rolled fabric and cross her arms when Butcher rose to his full height. He could feel the toxic tug-o-war inside him at wanting to be kind, to be gentle. He clenched his hands into fists, he steeled his resolve to not allow himself to be hamstrung by anyone and to not see her for an object to fuck and put away when he’s done with her. 

“It’s cozy enough for two,” he said slowly, making it seem like an extra-long word. Infusing each of the letters with heat as he raked his gaze up and down her body. 

“We can prove my point now if you’d like love.” 

Olivia shook her head wordlessly and stalked back to the parked truck, “why the fuck is this happening to me? What happened all of a sudden?” she wondered as she turned back to watch Butcher finish driving the tent spikes into the dusty ground. 

Olivia rooted through one of the many plastic grocery bags and pulled out a trendy bottle of vitamin water and blueberry pecan granola bar. 

While Butcher finished assembling the tent, stretching the canvas taut and checking for any holes or snags, Olivia proceeded to walk around their campsite, clearing and retrieving twigs and knotty wood sticks for a fire. 

Butcher was pleased to see that she wasn’t simmering by the truck anymore. He watched her pile the wood and dry grass before striking the head of a creamlike-orange-colored match and holding it to the haphazardly stacked flammables. 

Olivia rubbed her hands over the emerging warmth from the birth of the flames and looked over to find his eyes on her. She felt the weight of his gaze and had a sudden rush of remembrance at being trapped under his body, looking into his eyes from inches away as he buried his rigid member inside her, stretching and filling her body. 

She quickly looked down at the epicenter of the healthily burning fire, feeling the dull ache in the center of her intimacy. 

Butcher could hear the crackling of the small twigs as they were consumed by flames and felt the heat reach his body. He watched her sit on a fallen log that doubled as a bench. 

He circled the tent one last time before unzipping and tossing the sleeping bag inside it. He settled on the log bench across from her, “thank you for getting the fire going.”

“It was partially self-serving.”

Butcher smirked, “thank you, regardless of the reason.”

Olivia frowned as she subconsciously massaged her shoulder, she was nowhere near successful in easing the knot that was under her skin. Butcher watched her continue to knead at her shoulder and wince as she pressed her fingertips into her skin. He walked over to where she sat on the smooth log bench.

“May I help?” he asked lowly. 

Olivia stopped probing her shoulder and looked into the flames as she answered him. “Okay,” she said quietly and held her breath as he slipped onto the bench behind her. She shifted a little when he settled behind her, his powerful thighs pressing on either side of her. 

An appreciative sound escaped Olivia’s lips as he moved his strong hands on her neck and shoulders until he begin to feel the slightest bit of tension dissolve. 

Her muscular pleasure soon bled away to be replaced by a mixture of fear and the unknowable future when his touch became more insistent as he dropped his hands to her waist, pulling her lower body closer to him. Olivia stiffened in his arms as she felt him grow hard against her, his cock grew painfully rigid against her bottom.

“Go unroll the sleeping bag,” he growled raggedly.

Butcher dropped his head and buried his face against the back of her neck when she remained silent and statue-still in his arms.

Olivia shook her head and tried to squirm out of his impossibly suffocating embrace. “Not until you tell me what happened.” 

“What do you mean?” he murmured and slid one hand up to cradle, palm and massage her breast while he moved the other hand to the apex of her thighs. 

“Your eyes are full of darkness again, your hands are hurting me,” she gasped as he squeezed her breasts until tears of pain pricked her eyes.

Butcher remained wordless, his exhales were furiously rushed and hot against the silken fall of her hair. 

“Talk to me,” Olivia gasped as Butcher slid a hand down the front of her pants and moved his palm in slow circles over her femininity.

“I won’t apologize for getting you wrapped up in this because the moment I set my eyes on you, I knew you were the one,” he grunted as he yanked her panties away from the heat of her shaved, wet center until he could tease his fingers along the intimate folds and gently tease her tight opening. 

“The one what?” Olivia managed as he began drawing urgent circles around her clit until she was gasping under his touch. 

Butcher ignored her question and released her sore tit to free his throbbing rigidity as he simultaneously pushed her to the dusty ground.

Olivia shook her head as she tried to keep her draw string pants in place as he stroked his cock until it was painfully hard and all he wanted to do was fill her and make her scream his name. 

Butcher shifted his hold on her and roughly turned her over until she was staring up at him, the veins and arteries in his neck sticking out in ropy glory and his bled to near black with power and lust. 

Olivia shouted as his hands moved too fast and were too strong to stop as they tore at her clothes until he could gaze down at her naked center. 

His cock bobbed with enthusiasm as it ached to plunge inside her. 

Butcher groaned as Olivia pushed at the hand that was smoothing up her inner thigh. 

“What is it?” he growled as pushed her thighs further apart and salivated with the more he exposed of her pink, wet center. 

Olivia mumbled lowly, almost too low for Butcher to catch. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured and lowered his face to the curve of her neck. 

Olivia couldn’t find any words; she could only hear her pulse pounding in her ears and she couldn’t help but chuckle dryly. 

“Are you afraid to answer me?” Butcher murmured as he shifted between her thighs.

Olivia was only capable of nodding and trying not to focus on his rigid cock that remained firmly pressed against her bottom. 

“How can I alleviate your fear?”

Olivia’s mind furiously tried to formulate a coherent reply as she felt overwhelmed by the immense strength he possessed. “Not like this,” she finally pleaded as a pine needle tickled her nose. “Not on the ground.”

“Then go and unroll the sleeping bag,” he managed on a heavy moan as he stood up and helped her to her feet.

Olivia slipped through the canvas flaps. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she pulled the sleeping bag from its zippered bag and began to smooth the matte black fabric. The bedding was heavy and designed to offer protection from subzero temperatures.

Olivia glanced up when Butcher joined her in the tent and quickly looked away from him, not wanting to get caught in the stranglehold of his glance.

Butcher stood and watched her as her hands gave the barest of trembles as she plucked invisible lint off the nylon fabric. 

Olivia’s breath slowed to the barest of inhalations as he started to remove each article of clothing he was wearing. 

“I don’t want you to think about the past anymore,” he murmured lowly as he stripped out of his form-fitting thermal shirt. 

“What does that mean exactly?” Olivia finally managed to ask when she lifted her eyes and all she saw for a few salivating heartbeats was his naked, muscular torso.

“It means that I want us to start over, put our violent introduction in the past and begin our life together right now.”

Olivia didn’t blink as she stared up at Butcher, trapped in his gaze as he continued on a musical whisper as he fully unzipped his pants and stepped out of them.

“I know that I can’t take your affection by force.”

Olivia cleared her throat as Butcher added in a ragged groan. “I can’t force you to have genuine feelings for me as I do for you, but I promise that you’ll be safe, and   
I’ll do anything I can to earn your trust, to mean something to you.”

Butcher suppressed a groan when he held open the sleeping bag, his desire was so strong that his gut ached, and he spoke carefully, trying to not think of filling and possessing her body. “I want us to completely start over from here.”

Butcher patted the thermal lining of the sleeping bag. “Come here.”

Olivia reached for his extended hand and let him pull her into his arms. “I want you naked,” he whispered raggedly and tugged at her long-sleeved shirt. She allowed   
him to pull and tug at her clothing and expose more skin to his greedy gaze, until she was just as bare as he was. 

Olivia felt a preemptive ache inside when she dropped her eyes and found his cock rigid with enthusiasm. She hesitatingly settled next to him before he aggressively yanked their naked bodies closer together and pushed her onto her back and slid his hands under her bottom, shifting her closer to him.

Olivia felt the sheer strength reverberating in his electric touch on her body, she had recognized a certain futility when she had first laid eyes upon him. 

Butcher held her gaze as he gently nudged her thighs apart and felt his resolve dissipate completely as he grasped his hardened length and positioned himself at her opening.

“I don’t regret this,” he growled lowly and pushed his rigid length inside her. Olivia inhaled sharply as he fully sheathed himself, her thighs beginning to quiver around him. He slowly moved his hardness until he had built a steady rhythm of plunging in and out of her body, her intimate folds growing wet and slick under his rigorous movement. 

“I always longed for someone like you, but knew it would never happen,” he wheezed and thrust into her as deeply as he could until their intimate flesh kissed.

“What kind of person am I?” she gasped under his enthusiastic pounding pace. 

Olivia struggled to get control of her breathing as he lifted a hand from its death grip on the soft flesh of her hip to trail his fingertips down her neck and across her shoulders before speaking. 

“You’re beautiful,” he started and slid his hand down her smooth forearm to close around her slim wrist. “Irreplaceable,” he whispered and pressed his lips to her palm. 

“Don’t do that,” she muttered and tried to yank her hand away from him. 

“Do what?” 

“Talk to me like that.”

“How am I talking to you?”

“Like you haven’t hurt me.”

Butcher’s eyes bored into hers, “I regret hurting you.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes; she didn’t see or hear a lie. 

“Are you going to eventually kill me?”

“No, no,” he said quickly and urgently squeezed her hand. “No, I don’t ever want you out of my sight for the rest of my life,” he whispered and returned his lips to her palm. 

Olivia swallowed hard, “what did you say?” She knew what he had said and was hoping to buy time to formulate a reply. He didn’t give her much time to think as he rapidly answered. “Will you give me all of yourself?”

“I’m not some object for you to collect,” she gasped and tried to ignore the growing tsunami wave of ecstasy that threatened to drown her. 

“I know you’re not,” he panted as his physical pain began to encroach upon his nervous system. 

Butcher kept his rhythm slow and even, luxuriating in the feeling of sinking into her hot, tight center as he seemed to see inside her core. Olivia felt her body actively betray her as his touch elicited lightning strikes of pleasure throughout her body. He felt a jolt through his body when he coaxed a pleasurable sounding moan from her as he licked a line up her neck and pressed his lips firmly over the large pulse in her neck. 

“Will you?” he said on a staccato grunt as he began to feel his control begin to wane and his need for release rising. Butcher felt a battle in the front of his brain about being an unfeeling hulk or allowing himself to feel.

Olivia reached up and hesitatingly placed her fingertips on his strong jawline. She traced along his cheekbones and down the slope of his nose as he steadily pushed his engorged length in and out of her. 

“Yes,” she said raggedly as Butcher groaned and shuddered as his orgasm overwhelmed his senses and for a few seconds all he felt was her intimate walls squeezing his cock as he spilled his hot come inside her. 

She pressed her hands against his chest and could feel his heart beating strongly under the layers of dense musculature as his breathing returned to normal.

Olivia couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at his rigidity that glistened from being inside her as she allowed him to pull her into his powerful embrace.

“Where do we go from here?” she murmured as she rested the side of her face against his chest. 

Butcher squeezed her tighter in his arms. “We’ll stay here tomorrow, maybe the day after and then head east.”

“East to where?”

Butcher put his hand over hers, trapping her fingertips against his chest. She could feel his warm exhale against the crown of her head before he continued in a low whisper.

“Home.”


	13. Playing with Your Dinner Before Fucking It

“Please don’t be afraid of me Olivia,” Butcher whispered before he dropped his head and pressed his lips urgently to hers. He spoke in between dragging his lips from her mouth and down her neck, flicking his tongue against the soft hollow at the base of her throat before moving back to greedily find her mouth.

Butcher luxuriated in the feel of her lips under his, wanting to devour her. He had to fight every cell in his body where their lips touched. He fought to not wrap her up and return her kiss until they were both breathless. 

“What’s the house like?” she asked as his breath was hot against her skin. 

Butcher wrapped her up in formidable embrace, ignoring her question to instead choose luxuriating in the feel and press of her naked body. 

They laid together in the comfortable silence for a few minutes until Butcher felt some of the tension drain from her as he squeezed his arms around her as he asked. 

“What made you agreeable so fast?”

“It wasn’t and isn’t without effort.” Olivia gave a humorless chuckle as she added, “I needed to start trying to…believe you.”

“Do you believe me? Trust me?”

Olivia closed her eyes as he traced along her cheekbones and over her eyelids. “There’s no wrong answer,” he whispered.

“I’m trying but I’m still feeling cautious as hell,” she murmured and opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

“That’s understandable,” he said as he traced the outline of her lips.

Olivia felt her chest grow tight at the nearly palpable weight of his gaze. She had to fight to not try and leap free, the tent was suffocating her. 

“I really need to use the bathroom, I’m sure there’s a tree or two nearby,” she stammered.

Butcher eased his arms from around her, allowing her to freely move. Olivia sat up and pulled the long-sleeved shirt from the ground and quickly slipped it over her head. Butcher watched her turn and reach for her pants and let his eyes move over her. His gaze froze when it landed on the soft skin of her inner thigh and what looked like a scant amount of blood smeared on the smooth skin. 

He looked up and met Olivia’s eyes, her expression unreadable as she hurriedly yanked the sweatpants up to her waist. 

Butcher felt a flash of nervousness; a foreign feeling and he cleared his throat. “Are you okay love?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” she said quickly and darted from the canvas flaps. Butcher slipped into his own clothes and found her rooting through the plastic bag to find a small rectangular package of store brand tissues. 

He began to follow her as she walked toward a thicket of lush-leaved trees. “Can I have a bit of privacy please; I swear I’m not going to run away in the woods with no shoes.”

“I’ll be right here,” he said and watched her pop behind a tree. The sound of her urinary stream blended with the sounds of the rushing river and flying insects. Olivia bit her lip at the ache in her lower body, the temperature had dropped, and her urine steamed on the forest floor. 

Butcher watched her emerge from behind the tree and waited until she reached him before walking back to the camp site. “Better?” he asked, looking over at her. 

“Mostly,” she shrugged and neither of them spoke further. Olivia settled on the log bench and watched Butcher reinvigorate fiery life to the flames by feeding it small sticks and dry brush. 

She brushed her fingers through her hair, making a face at the oiliness in each strand and the grit stuck to her scalp. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asked as he settled on the wood bench across from her.

“It’s a stupid thing to even be thinking,” she said blowing out a sharp breath before adding. “I would just really like to clean-up; I think we’re near some hot springs. 

Butcher glanced at the trees, their colors changing as dusk fell, “now?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather not navigate this in the dark, the morning would be better.”

He looked at her across the tall flames, “morning it is.”

His thoughts were jumbled, “say something comforting.” 

Olivia was staring off into space when his voice shook her to reality.

“Come here,” he said and patted the space on the bench next to him.

She blinked at him slowly. “At some point, you need to really decide and then follow-through on this whole fight or acceptance. Is this the moment I have to decide?” her mind asked. 

He patted the space more insistently and she slowly rose and walked towards him. 

As Olivia settled next to his formidable frame and bathed in the heat from the fire, hours, and hours away back at the Vought building, Stormfront hovered over the shoulders of her nerd herds as they painted Olivia’s social media page as one of supporting controversial subjects and provocative criminal ideals. There were even clips of her alleged manifesto that was leaked to the news.

By the time, the eight o’clock news aired, Doctor Olivia Phillips was a dangerous domestic terrorist and had partnered up with William Butcher, whose mugshot needed no words to instill chilling fear. 

Stormfront smiled proudly as she watched Homelander being interviewed by a silver fox journalist about the rise of domestic terrorism. Before the interview went to an ad, a toll-free number flashed on the screen under pictures of Olivia and Butcher along with an obscenely large reward for credible tips leading to their capture and incarceration.

As the number of zeroes in Vought’s reporter got everyone being a junior detective, from the junkie puking in the gutter to the pampered rich girl who carried her dog around in her leather purse, Olivia melted into Butcher’s side as the sudden weight of the whirlwind since clocking into the Vought building on the otherwise regular kind of day settled around her and pressed against every bit of her body, threatening to compress her out of existence.

Butcher felt her shoulders shake as she covered her mouth to stifle her cries. 

“What can I do love?” he murmured huskily and shifted until he could grip Olivia’s chin and lift her face to meet his. 

“What can I do to stop your tears beautiful?” Butcher asked on a strained voice as he fought to listen and not focus on the rapid rise and fall of her chest along with the small sighs that fell from her full, parted lips. 

“Please don’t let Vought hunt me down like an animal, they’re dangerous,” she murmured as Butcher wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he rose to his feet. 

He checked that the fire was smoldering and settled Olivia in the plush sleeping bag before fetching a bottle of grain alcohol from the liquor store’s colorful plastic bag. 

Butcher cracked the seal and took a few burning swallows before passing the bottle to Olivia. 

The two of them drank and Butcher was pleased to see Olivia smiling and happier as the level of the bottle fell. He knew she’d wake up hating the bright sun, but the tears would stay at bay for at least a night. 

Relief washed through Butcher as Olivia eventually slurred herself to sleep. He slipped behind her and tugged her body against him, she fit against him like a perfect puzzle piece. 

Butcher listened as her breathing eventually slowed, growing steady and even, as he followed her down the rabbit hole of dreamland. Olivia’s dreams were benign and not memorable, but Butcher’s mind was assaulted with a repetitive slideshow of his time on foreign soil, fighting an unnecessary war, death and blood danced behind his closed eyelids. 

He was helpless and unable to defend himself while he traversed the world of his dreams. Olivia was stirred awake when Butcher began talking in his sleep. At first his words were barely decipherable and then they took on more flesh and she realized he was pleading repetitively, “don’t, don’t leave me.”

Butcher unconsciously tightened his arms around Olivia as he spoke aloud in the darkened tent. 

Olivia slipped out of his embrace and soaked a wad of paper towels with some tepid bottled water before she returned to him as he began thrashing in the confines of the sleeping bag. Olivia smoothed the cool towel across his forehead. 

He awoke under her gentle touch as she moved the damp paper towel over his face and neck, in the dimness she could barely make out his features. But she clearly recognized the pain painted on his expression. 

“You were dreaming, you’re okay,” Olivia whispered and smoothed the folded towel across his cheekbones. 

Butcher opened his eyes and found himself staring up at her as she continued to move the folded square in a gentle path down his neck. She pressed her fingers over the large pulse in his neck, “you’re okay.”

Olivia caught a glimpse of his raw need and vulnerability, and she wanted nothing more than to soothe him. She stared down at his chapped lips before setting the cloth aside and cupping her hand to the side of his face. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Lust pushed aside everything thing else in his mind for a moment as Butcher pulled her hard against his body, his hands seemed to be everywhere at once.

Butcher moved his hands along her waist and slid down the smooth curvature of her lower back.

He groaned as he shifted dramatically in the sleeping bag and moved down the length of her body until he could press the side of his face against the smooth, taut skin of her belly. Butcher could feel the steady pulse of her abdominal aorta against his cheek. 

Olivia felt the scratchy hair from his beard move along her bare skin as he shook himself free of the lingering hold from his dreams. 

“You’re okay,” she murmured as she settled her hands on the tops of his broad shoulders as he closed his arms tighter around her midsection, squeezing her until she was breathless. 

Butcher pressed his face against her smooth stomach and inhaled deeply, pulling her warmth deep into his lungs. It didn’t take much for the feel of her naked skin under his hands and smell of her in his nose to shake the stranglehold of his dreams. 

His touch turned insistence and soon near painful. Olivia was already uncomfortable with the awkward angle he had her pinned and began to squirm against him. 

Butcher growled and kept his grip ironclad and unbreakable as he shifted until she was flat on her back, her thighs spread wide around him so he could settle impossible close to her pink, intimate center. 

Olivia blinked rapidly as she stared up at Butcher, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes were glazed over from the combination of his surging lust, unchecked flow of adrenaline, and repressed anger.

Butcher captured her wrists in one hand and roughly pinned them over her head before she could try and gain any semblance of leverage. He shoved his free hand down the scant space between their naked bodies and stroked the length of his painfully hard cock. Butcher gripped his cock and teased the sensitive head against her tight opening, anxious to plunge inside, desperate to possess her. 

Olivia gasped as she felt the smooth head of his cock teasing against her wet center, the tip sliding through her pink folds. 

“William please,” she said sharply.

Butcher’s hand froze on his rigid length as it was in a mid-pass through her intimate folds, he paused as he was poised to plunge inside her as he brought his eyes to meet hers. 

“William,” she said again. 

His name a second time on her lips, stopped Butcher dead in his tracks. The sound of his name made his red blood cells pause from circulating around her body. 

Butcher watched tears form at the corners of her eyes as she sniffed hard.

“Talk to me love,” he murmured gently.

Olivia surprised them both with a harsh laugh. “I knew what to expect from life before, there was a schedule of sorts. All of this though,” she scoffed. “I don’t know what to do with this?”

Butcher waited as she seemed to gather her next set of words. “I deal with millions of dollars of medical equipment, can run blood work analysis and diagnostics, but this has me feeling completely helpless and shattered.”

“That’s understandable,” he finally said. “This is all a little unorthodox,” he added wryly. “How do you want our life to be?” he asked before she could move her thoughts away from the intensity of the present moment. 

As Olivia fought to summarize such a difficult question, back at Olivia’s apartment turned crime-scene-Supe fuck fest, Homelander wiped his cock on the corner of Olivia’s duvet cover as Stormfront adjusted her snug-fitting bodysuit. 

“This’ll look great on the website tonight,” Stormfront said with a sadistic smirk as she took multiple photos of Dr. Craig Dalton’s exsanguinated corpse. She tapped the screen and sent the pictures to her nerd fuck boys with a promise of pizza and chicken wings delivered later that night. 

Homelander smoothed a few stray hairs back into place as he regarded his reflection in Olivia’s antique cheval mirror. He watched Stormfront send message after message to her techie suck and fuck toys before her expression turned serious and before she abruptly spun until her back was facing him, he saw her eyes flick over to him briefly, shrouded in worry.

Homelander was across the room and plucking the phone from her gloved hands before she could blink. 

“Hey,” she shouted and reached for the phone as his eyes scanned the latest message before she could retrieve the phone. 

“Who sent that?” Homelander asked, his anger growing furiously as his mind replayed the pixelated words he had just read from the square HD screen. 

“Who sent what baby?” Stormfront asked breezily as she slid the phone deep down the front of her suit to nestle between her warm, rounded, pale cleavage before she slid her hand over the bulge of his flaccid cock behind the crotch of his suit. 

Homelander’s eyes lit up a vivid red as he closed one hand around Stormfront’s throat and squeezed while he ripped the front of her suit open with his other hand until she could read from the phone’s screen.

“You need to tell John soon, he’s going to be angry,” Homelander read as he threw her to the ground. 

“Oh, that’s nothing baby,” Stormfront drawled and ripped the rest of her shredded suit free. “That’s just company bureaucracy,” she continued as she spread her thick thighs wide, her pink cunt was soon yawning open to him. 

“Tell me then if it’s nothing,” Homelander ordered, his eyes no less blazing in their intensity.

Stormfront slipped her index and middle finger in her mouth and sucked on them until they were dripping wet with strings of her saliva. 

“Just corporate bullshit baby, nothing more,” Stormfront said as she began plunging her wet fingers into her rosy cunt hole. She was soon panting as she added, “just a little temporary arrangement of The Seven, to boost revenue and stock options.”

“What does that mean?” Homelander asked as he clenched his hands into fists.

“Vought just wants to ride the country’s currently political waves baby, that’s all,” Stormfront mewled as she pumped her fingers into her cunt, the tight flesh slurping to suck up the length of her fingers. “It’s just for the optics, Vought needs to be pro-woman now.”

Homelander’s eyes simmered to a ruddy crimson shade as Stormfront began to make herself come as she described Vought’s woman first/sisterhood campaign that 

Stormfront herself would be spearheading. “I’ll be the public face of The Seven for a while with Queen Maeve by my side, Vought wants to capture both the young, middle and older women in this country, the world even. Women everywhere will support Vought and its future political endeavors when they see Queen Maeve and myself bringing down misogyny.”

Homelander watched Stormfront’s fingers expertly bring on a swift, second, wet orgasm as she climaxed thinking of herself at the top of Vought and towering over everyone, to become a Goddess unilaterally feared and worshipped.

Stormfront’s ego was too large for the room and caused her to unwisely dismiss Homelander’s strength.


	14. Promises and Partial Hysterectomies

Homelander’s lips curled into his political, you can trust me, smile as he began to yank the curtains of Olivia’s bedroom closed. He looked over his shoulder at Stormfront as he grinned. “So many people have telescopes in these high rises, I wouldn’t want your woman first campaign compromised babe.”

Stormfront always had a hard time seeing past her three-mile island of pathological narcissism and towering egomania. She didn’t realize that this was the end of an independent woman by a fucking caveman.

As Homefront flexed his gloved hands and turned towards Stormfront, far, far away in the dim tent, Butcher couldn’t restrain himself a second longer and let his painfully hard rigidity slide into her until he could begin fucking her painfully slow, making each of her gasps rattle with its intensity. 

“I want,” Olivia managed and lost her breath entirely when Butcher yanked up on her hips and pounded the head of his cock in the spongy mass of nerves deep inside her.

“Tell me what you want love,” he ordered on a groan as each stab of his cock stole her ability to form coherent words. 

“I don’t want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, fearing that the house will burst into flames as Vought and Homelander crash down through the chimney and my family. Should I consider them already dead?” she gasped as a sob tore through her peaking pleasure. 

Butcher shifted and adjusted her thighs around his waist and slowed his thrusting as he answered. 

He nodded and dropped his lips to hers, swallowing her cries as he simultaneously pushed her body over the edge as she was betrayed by her body as it gave in to his touch. 

Butcher lifted his lips. “I’m sorry love, there’s a good chance anyone who knows you will be used to find you,” Butcher murmured lowly as he sank himself as deep as he could until their intimate flesh wetly kissed. 

As Olivia was caught up in an overwhelming cloud of orgasmic bliss and petrifying fear as Butcher wrapped her up and tried to keep his thrusting from becoming too erratic, wanting to be able to fuck her longer, back in Olivia’s cozy bedroom with the muted grey bedspread, Homelander moved faster than Stormfront could react and clamped one hand around her throat, crushing the cartilage of her hyoid while his other hand plunged through her suit and into her warm abdominal cavity. 

Stormfront’s eyes widened as Homelander’s strong fingers sliced her internal organs to ribbons, before scooping the visceral slurry onto the plush carpet that was in need of a good steam cleaning.

“Mein fuhr….” Stormfront groaned as she batted her hands uselessly at Homelander’s forearms as he kept wetly scooping out her entrails, her uterus plopping wetly to the stained carpet fibers as he continued to tighten his grip on her throat until his fingertips ending up touching as they encircled her spinal column and shook her around until she ceased to make another sound. 

Homelander let her bloody, broken body drop to the floor and washed his leather gloves in Olivia’s bathroom with a lemon and ginger liquid soap.

He smiled at himself in the mirror and plucked a washcloth from the shower rack and dabbed away the stray drops of blood that clung to his golden strands of hair and across the strong line of his cheekbones. 

Before Homelander flew off into the night back to the Vought building, he retrieved Stormfront’s cooling corpse from the floor and stripped her ravaged body nude. 

He arranged her on the bed in a complicated sexual position that was popularized in several big-budget porn films before snapping some pictures of Stormfront and the dead Dr. Dalton. 

Homelander sent the pictures to his own nerd techs that he had employed. 

He felt his lungs fill deeper than they had ever since Stormfront had arrived on the scene.

As Homelander flew across the skyline, he saw himself back at the helm of The Seven. 

As Homelander returned to Vought and went about ensuring that the propaganda films began to hoist him back up to the top of the Supe food chain, hours away, the temperature continued to drop outside the tent as Butcher felt a twist in his gut as he came in several hot spurts with knee-weakening force inside Olivia’s tight pink center.

Butcher raised a hand and pressed a few of his rough fingertips to her lips as he fought to catch his breath. “I love you,” he groaned raggedly and felt a tremor run through her body where he was buried in her as she stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. 

Butcher felt a sudden spotlight on him, his vulnerability exposed as he dropped his face to the curve of her neck. 

Olivia felt his lips press against the side of her neck and tension fill every part of him as she lifted her hands and pressed against his chest until he leaned back to look down at her. 

Butcher groaned as his cock softened and slid out of her as she smoothed a hand from over his heart, up to cup his jaw. 

Butcher was frozen in the silence before she spoke. He saw her as a goddess that had tumbled down from the peaks of Mt. Olympus and he wanted her acceptance more than anything. 

Olivia pressed her fingertips to his lips, the facial hairs coarse under her touch.

She shivered as the temperature drop was startling apparent as the fine sheen of sweat dried on their naked skin.

Olivia wrapped her arms around his midsection as Butcher shifted to his side and tucked her close, tugging on the zipper of the sleeping bag.

“Promise me you’ll keep me safe,” she murmured against the bare skin of his broad chest.

“I promise,” Butcher whispered raggedly as Olivia pressed her lips over his heart.

As Olivia let herself begin to surrender to Butcher's promises, all around the state, family, friends, and social media friends of Olivia were slaughtered at Homelander's orders. He was determined to flush her from hiding and have her publicly executed.


	15. Death by Exsanguination and Happy(ish) Endings

As the body count of Olivia’s friends, family and even women she frequently took yoga with were slaughtered at Homelander’s direction after many rounds of enhanced interrogation techniques failed, at the off-season campground, Olivia and Butcher had fallen back into an easy sleep.

The sun was hours away from rising as Homelander continued to seek out anyone who knew Olivia and Butcher and where they might be squirreled away. 

Homelander delegated many of the Supes with broken moral compasses to pull, tear and rip answers from men and women of every walk of life, FICO credit score and social media presence. 

Just before sunrise, Butcher stirred awake first, not sure what woke him. He was in no way attached to his mother in an unhealthy or Freudian way and she was also not the Greek Queen Jocasta who married and fucked her son, but Butcher felt something inside the moment Homelander ended Connie Butcher’s life. 

As the sun began to warm the cold northern hemisphere where Butcher and Olivia were cocooned together in the sleeping bag, hours, and hours away, Homelander cradled Connie Butcher’s head with his large hands and squeezed.

He continued applying pressure until her skull became a veritable fleshy melon and spewed forth grey matter instead of glistening seeds as her cranium fell apart at the seams.

John frowned down at the blood and other thicker bits splattered across his chest and belly before stalking down the hall to the small bathroom with pastel pink towels and pale-yellow soap pressed into the shape of a seashell. 

As Homelander lathered up his hands and washed Connie’s blood and shredded grey matter down the drain, back at the campsite, Butcher slid out of the sleeping bag without waking Olivia and slipped out of the tent.

Butcher stretched deeply, his neck, back and knees popping and cracking as he found a tree to take a piss. He frowned as the hot stream of urine steamed as it hit the ground, he felt a stab in his midsection that nearly doubled him over, dribbling piss on his socked feet.

“Goddamnit,” he growled as he stood upright, feeling like something had just been taken from inside him, something that spoke to primordial roots, perhaps before even becoming bipedal, that universal sense of loss.

As Butcher tried to shake off the daunting cloak that was falling around him, Olivia stirred awake inside the zippered tent. She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, a piercing headache waking up with her. The muted sunlight was too bright even behind her closed eyelids as every part of her body announced its alphabetical list of aches and pains. 

Goosebumps broke out on her skin as the deep ache between her thighs brought back visceral memories of him roughly filling her, struggling to not break her under his urgent touch and frenzied thrusting.

Butcher heard Olivia groan and cough as he returned to the tent.

“How ya feeling princess?” he asked as he winked and tossed a bottle of water towards her.

Olivia tried to glare at him but gratitude for the water overrode everything else. 

Butcher watched her drain half the bottle before she replaced the cap and set it aside.

“How are you feeling?” he asked again in all seriousness.

Olivia chuckled and made a face as nausea twisted throughout her gut. “I just need to sleep for a couple days and one of those vats of sports drinks they throw on the coaches at the end of winning the Super Bowl.”

Butcher started pulling on his boots as Olivia took a few small sips and counted to ten as hot bile raced up her throat. “I’m going to make some calls, get the fire going,” he murmured and moved to her side, reaching up and cupping her jaw with his large hand, the rough pad of his thumb moving across her lower lip as he added. 

“Sleep as long as you want,” he murmured as he pressed his lips against hers. 

As Olivia slept fitfully, surfing waves of nausea, sweating and shivering, Butcher reached out to some friends who served their country, went to war for their country, became maimed for their country and were then forgotten by their country. The men he was in search of spent most of their time at the Salvation Army or in line at soup kitchens and constantly searching for any kind of housing. 

Butcher let the engine idle and listened to some of the local news and the increasingly toxic headlines about Olivia and himself. Vought had them now painted as terrorists with homicidal manifestos and were pinning murders to them left and right, the new and unwitting Bonnie and Clyde.

The news of his mother’s murder hadn’t risen to the top of the news cycle as Butcher continued dialing long remembered phone numbers, some reassigned and some out of service. 

Olivia continued to sleep the better part of the morning as Homelander eventually returned to the Vought building. His pituitary gland was wildly overstimulated and ejaculated adrenaline like a horny, uncontrolled teenager with a never-ending erection. 

He landed on the graveled rooftop and stared out over the city. John looked down at his bloody hands, he had stopped washing them seven murders ago. He clenched his hands in and out of loose fists, the dried blood tacky on his long fingers.

John hissed as his mind was barraged by a heady slideshow of his marathon bloodbath and double-digit body count. He fumbled a hand down to the tight crotch of his suit and yanked the fabric around until he could pull his cock free. 

His rigidity grew painfully harder with each remembrance of ensuring cardiac and brain death. Homelander stroked his thickened length faster with each flashback to organ failure and complete exsanguination. 

Homelander leaned back and howled as he shot a hot load of sticky come into his bloody hand, the slick palmful of semen mixing with his stained fingers. A high wind ruffled his coifed hair as he rode the aftershocks of his climax. 

As Homelander eventually rested in a sense as he reviewed hours of surveillance footage on multiple HD screens on fast-forward, back at the campground, Olivia rose in the tent that the high overhead sun had warmed while she had laid in a comatose-like state. 

She coughed hard and drank the remaining water that had grown tepid and slipped into her discarded clothes. 

Butcher looked over and couldn’t help but smile at Olivia’s disheveled appearance. She squinted as she smoothed her tangled hair back and tied it into a low bun at the base of her neck as she stretched her arms high overhead, a groan slipping from between her lips as she was torn between wanting to simultaneously vomit and eat. 

“This’ll help love,” Butcher murmured as he rose from the fallen log that served as a bench and walked towards her. He handed her a mug of hot coffee, “there’s a little extra in here,” he said as she accepted the blue and white tin cup. 

Olivia let him lead her to the log in front of the roaring fire, she sipped the near scalding spiked coffee and grew toasty as the flames consumed the twigs and small logs.

Butcher waited until he could see her tension ease with the touch of the alcohol before he dropped his arm around her and pulled her against his side.

“Do you trust me love?” 

Olivia stared down into her coffee as his question fell around her. 

“I’m trying to,” she admitted and nervously drained her cup, anxious for the alcohol’s numbing wash as he remained still and quiet, only his breathing was evidence of his life.

“Was that the wrong answer?” Olivia asked softly, proud her voice was mostly strong. 

“No, not at all love, I want to earn your trust completely but there’s something we need to talk about,” he murmured and tightened his arm.

“What is it?” she asked and turned as much as his hold would allow, barely able to meet his eyes. 

Butcher paused, unsure of where to start. He poured them both another cup of alcoholic caffeine and worded what he had heard on the breaking mid-day news. 

Olivia’s tears started slowly as Butcher recited the list of memorized names of reported deaths. She pressed her lips together and started to drop her face towards her lap when he set his mismatched cup aside and gripped her chin, bringing her eyes back to meet his.

“I’m sorry I got you into this love,” Butcher growled and crushed his lips to her, tasting her breath mixed with the spiked French roast. “But I’m not sorry you’re here,” he thought but didn’t say as he danced his fingertips from her chin down the front of her throat until he could cup his hand over her breast and squeezed until she gasped against his lips. 

Olivia dropped her hands to close around his wrists as he started to yank at her clothes and lowered them both to the pine-needled covered dirt in front of the fire. 

She blushed and chuckled embarrassingly as she had no chance in stopping his hands, but he let her think she did as he paused his touched and stared down into her flushed face as she stumbled over her words.

“Not so enthusiastic,” she managed as Butcher wordlessly softened his grip before he slid her pants free. 

He smoothed his hands up and down the outside of her thighs before lowering himself to his elbows above her, “anything love,” Butcher grumbled as he pressed his face against the curve of her neck.

Olivia tightened her thighs around his waist as she reached her hands down to the front of his pants and fumbled with his zipper before tugging his hardening cock free.

“Anything,” he groaned as she guided the sensitive head of his cock to bob at the entrance of her aching wet center. Both of their breathing rates increased as he slid his thick rigidity inside her, forcing himself to sink himself slowly and fully, stopped only by their intimate flesh kissing. 

Their lips met as he drew his full length out before sliding back inside, fucking her with bridled restraint.

As Butcher and Olivia’s collective sighs and moans sounded in concert with the sounds of the naturally running body of water and birds, back at the Vought building, Homelander shouted as his eyes glinted maniacally and he threw a young intern through the seventh-floor glass window who reported that there was no chatter anywhere, not even on the dark web about the missing Olivia and Butcher. 

“You should be grateful for your fucking lives, my benevolence at this staggering level of incompetence. Find the terrorists, search under every movie theater seat and behind every shower curtain,” Homelander shouted until the veins in his neck threatened to burst through the flushed skin. 

His eyes grew so bright it was like looking at the sun as John looked over the other interns, some openly crying, others praying and one that had passed out. 

“I understand,” he finally said and held his gloved hands outstretched. “It must be difficult to be in such a position next to a god. Whoever brings me the two terrorists will receive an executive floor office, personal assistant and triple your current salary.”

Many of the intern’s fears melted away at the enticing offer, especially after their co-worker just went through the window. 

Homelander stalked the halls of the Vought building as the interns gorged on sugary snacks and bottled coffee drinks to push through their fatigue, their futures set if they could find Olivia and Butcher. 

As the interns continued to work furiously and Homelander continued to sulk, back at the campgrounds, Olivia and Butcher cleaned up with a brisk dip in the shallow banks of the river before drying off in front of the fire.

“Where to next?” Olivia asked as she rubbed the towel against her wet hair. 

Butcher ran a washcloth briskly over his facial hair before answering. 

“There’s not a lot of help out there when it comes to facing Vought and those fucking Supes,” he sighed raggedly. 

He recounted all the calls he had made and the endless cycle of dead ends. Butcher didn’t know how to grieve for his mom and wanted to bury all of his emotions into Olivia emotionally and physically. 

“What does that mean for, for our future?” Olivia asked and turned on the log to face him.

Butcher opened his mouth to speak and then directed his gaze at the scattering of pine needles in front of the fire. 

“What is it?” Olivia pressed, her turn to grip his chin and bring his eyes to meet hers.

“I don’t throw in the towel or turn from anything,” he murmured and reached for her hands, squeezing them rhythmically as he continued. 

“I never would’ve considered this before you,” Butcher said lifted a hand to press his lips to her palm.

“What does that mean?” Olivia asked breathlessly.

Butcher sighed heavily, “it means we’re going to disappear, become someone else.”

He couldn’t believe he was saying the words, declare that he was running from Vought and Homelander’s reach. 

Olivia saw how much it took for him to speak and slid closer to him and drew her arms around his neck, bringing their lips close together before she spoke, her words a hot exhale against his mouth. “I trust that’s the right decision,” she murmured before pressing her lips to his. 

Butcher closed his arms around her and surrendered in every literal and metaphorical sense of the word. 

After they eventually got back to coffee and actual food, Butcher explained that through the myriad of his calls while she was passed out, he had secured a pickup point for new identifications and a two-bedroom home with association fees and a gated pool. 

Olivia snacked on a bag of barbequed chips and nodded as Butcher explained the route to their new home, the pickup spots along the way and as many details as he had about their future.

“We’ll be off Vought’s radar?” she asked and dumped the dregs of the chips into her palm. 

Butcher nodded, “as safe as I think I’ve planned for,” he said honestly. 

Olivia wiped her fingertips clean as Butcher searched her expression. He would’ve sacrificed a goat to any god in gratitude that she would leap and trust that he would catch her fall. 

~~~~ Six Months Later ~~~~

Olivia was filling the stained-glass bird feeder when Butcher snuck up behind her and pulled her up and off her feet.

She squealed as he spun her around and demanded her full attention as his hands yanked her close.

Butcher crushed his lips to hers and kissed her until she was breathless.

“What was that for?” Olivia asked on a gasp when he lifted his lips. 

“Nothing in particular love,” Butcher said and pulled her to one of the redwood chaise lounges and tugged her down to sit next to him.

“Thank you,” Butcher murmured as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the warm skin of Olivia’s palm. “Thank you for trusting me.”


End file.
